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 Additional commanta:/ 
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 poaal 
 ofth 
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 Origi 
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 Thai 
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 Ca documant aat fiimA au taux da rMuction indiquA ci-daaaoua. 
 
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ir« 
 
 d«tailt 
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 •r una 
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 i9on A 
 
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 Tha copy fllmad hara haa baan raproduead thanka 
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 L'exemplaira fllmA f ut reproduit grtca i la 
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 BibliothAque nationale du Canada 
 
 Lea imagaa suhrantas ont 4tA reproduites avac la 
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 Lea axemplaires originaux dont la couverture en 
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 originaux sont filmAs en commenpant par la 
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 d'impression ou d'illustration at en terminant par 
 la derniAre page qui comporte une telle 
 empreinte. 
 
 Un des symboles suivanta apparattra sur la 
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 symbols V signifie "FIN". 
 
 Les cartas, planches, tableaux, etc., peuvent Atre 
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 Lorsque le document est trop grand pour Atre 
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 d'images nAcessaire. Las diagrammas suivanta 
 iiluatrant la mAthode. 
 
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N. 
 
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 ^ H 
 
 ^- 
 
AILEEN, 
 
 A POEM, 
 
 . i' 
 
 XbOmfi. O- 1^-A.OmVBIT- 
 
 ^ 
 
 
 
 COMPOSED IN THE YEAH 1808. 
 
 ^- 
 
 ?./ 
 
 INGERSOLL: 
 S. GURNBTT, FBINTER, '^ CMBONICLE " OFPICS. 
 
 ^rf 
 
 
 
■ 
 
 '^i-. 
 
 AILEEN. 
 
 OH, ibe WM beautiful — beautiful — 
 As aught in earth or aii — 
 That orphan child with the great blue ejet 
 And the glittering golden hair. 
 So strangely lovely did she seem ; 
 And such light to her eye was given'; 
 Men said her naother had dreamed a dream 
 Of the angels that walk in heaven ; 
 For her mother -was an enthusiast, 
 Whom few could undei*stand ; 
 III early life from earth fihe passed, 
 To sit at God's right hand. 
 Her sire, a «tern, cold, wordly man, 
 To every soul beside. 
 
 Looked sadly round, when his all was gone , 
 And turned from his food and died. 
 He was of earth, and she was of heaven ; 
 But love bad made them one : 
 4n#l vweetly ia « green, green grave, 
 
 \ 
 
 ,'se 
 
They slept when their wnrk was done. 
 
 They left their child all earthly joys ; 
 
 Plaiittitions niid ornn^e howers ; 
 
 And she played with jewels nnd golden toys 
 
 When winter lind nipped the flowers ; 
 
 For her father hud travelled in lands ofur'-* 
 
 His youth was a youth oi toil — 
 
 And the gems lliat were Ijeautiful toys to her| 
 
 Would have bou;rht Virginia's soil. 
 
 She called her diamonds broken lighty 
 
 And her rubys hardened flame ; 
 
 While the glowing amethyst, purple bright^ 
 
 Was a glory she could net name ) 
 
 But dearest of all her opals were. 
 
 Her mother had loved the same) 
 
 For th^y looked like a maiden pure and fair| 
 
 Yet wearing a heart of flame. 
 
 They left her too a thousand slavesi 
 
 Of every varyin«^ hue, 
 
 Whose faiherct had slept in Virginian graves 
 
 For a century or two. 
 
 And thus the planter's will declared : 
 
 *' If discontent there be, 
 
 " A certain gift to each award 
 
 ** And let that aonl go free." 
 
 Her guardian was a Senator, 
 
 A busy man of care, 
 
 Teachers and nurses he sent to hiitf 
 
 And rich gifis every year ; 
 
 He managed all her business well, 
 
 Th 
 
 AnJ 
 
 Wl 
 
 Yel 
 
 Thl 
 
 Fol 
 
 As 
 
That none a fault could find ; 
 
 And ho Bent a rcchle GovernesSi 
 
 Wiiom the hniiess would nut mind ; 
 
 Yet she could not act tho tyrant's part, 
 
 Thou<;h a wild and willful thing, 
 
 For her mother had left her a loving heart. 
 
 As fresh as the flowers in Spring. 
 
 
 Slowly her glowing childhood passed 
 Likj a beautiful dream that might not last ; 
 Or like a glorious summer day, 
 With one dark shadow to cloud its ray. 
 Her mother's blessed niemo'-y lay. 
 Like a powerful dream ut her hcait. alway, 
 Mingling with all that wus good or fuir, 
 Bright or lovely in earth or air ; 
 The evening brccses that sweep the sky, 
 A"d the clear blue clouds that sailed on hi<;h, 
 And the stars looking through so pure and fair, 
 All mingled with that memory were ; 
 And what in the Holy Bo( k is told 
 Of angels clad in human mould, 
 And all wild tales of sea and air, 
 And mystical beings who vander there. 
 Breathing low strains of harmony — 
 Mixed with that blessed memory j 
 To wild bright reveries was she given, 
 And dreams that allied this earth to heaven ; 
 To worldly teachings little inclined, 
 With Qooe to strengthen or form her mind ; 
 
 \ 
 
Childhood to jouth wm wearing, on, 
 
 irnd of Wisdum'it leMotis the gathered none^ 
 
 Wwdom'i mantle mny never fttll, 
 Strong reason's li^lit niuy never breuki 
 But there i» a time that comcth to a!l, 
 IVhen our terrible human natures wake ) 
 Rising like sunshine, slowly, bri>^htlyy 
 Or sweeping like hurricane over the hill, 
 Those fearful passions we treat so lightly, 
 That stamp our life-time, of good' or ill, 
 They have to come, and they must and they will. 
 
 There came a knight to the lady's bower— 
 (So runneth many an ancient song,)/ 
 Demonti waa a likt-iy wooer, 
 Wtalthy and gallant, handsome and young. 
 He heard ot the beautilul star of the Sojih, 
 He came and he saw her among her flowers, 
 Dieamnig of her coming youth, 
 l¥ith childhood iingeiing in her bowers. 
 Oh, she was beautiful — beautiful — 
 A blessed angel she seemed to be. 
 Not the blight glowing earthly thing 
 That earthly man hud thought to sec y 
 Yet he sought to wed the shnnkinor child' 
 For her wealth, her beauty and high degree, 
 For her dreamy nature so strange and wild, 
 And her soul of stainless purity. 
 They were all a blank to such us be. 
 
 It was very strange to the young Aileeit 
 
To Me a man to proud and tall, 
 
 fiondinj; at if she wore a Queen, 
 
 Seeking her hand, her heart, her all ; 
 
 But her childhood'n dreams were rudely broken 
 
 I3y the li<;htnirig flash of his darksome eye, 
 
 And a dread that mi^ht scarcely in words be spokiOi 
 
 Chilled her spirit when ke came nijli. 
 
 Uipe minds ate easily bej^uiled 
 
 Deneuth the flatterer's mi^'hty sway ; 
 
 But this youn^ artless one recoiled — 
 
 The unerring instincts of t/ie child 
 
 Hud not wholly passed away ^ 
 
 He tried again — again — again. 
 
 With the softest words hts lips coald lay ; 
 
 "She sported not with his spirit's pain— 
 
 She answered him not with proud disdain-— 
 
 But she shunned him ever and shrank away. 
 
 It was long before he understood 
 That he couM not rule that girlish heart ; 
 He — a man of loftiest mood — 
 Skilled in every lover's art ; 
 For Demonti was a gentleman, 
 Proud of his wealth and his high degree — 
 A haughty Southern gentleman, 
 Proud of himself, in short was he 
 As proud as a man or a Devil could be— 
 The mood of Virginian chivalry. 
 
 Hit fiitore life he bad mapped and planned 
 
' ! 
 
 ' 
 
 i i 
 
 \ ( 
 
 * 
 ' I 
 
 f:l 
 
 9 
 
 Ob a scale of grandear and luxorj 
 
 That needed the whole of her wealth and land*- 
 
 Yea, even her beauty required he. 
 
 The light of his gorgeous homo to be ; 
 
 Such fair arrangementa never could 
 
 Be changed for a nkaideu's '• Y-^a or Najr,'* 
 
 And he strove with naiurul hardihood 
 
 To urge her the fatal ^ Yea " to say ^ 
 
 Demonti forgot that he dealt with one 
 
 Accustomed from her infant hour 
 
 To beckoa and the thin^g wa» done, 
 
 If wealth, or the sinews of man had power. 
 
 He came one eve in sunny Xune, 
 And in her fair verandahai found her^ 
 Waiting for the laggard moon 
 To shed a kindred halo ronnd her.. 
 There were strange jewels in her hair^ 
 17V orn as things of every day^ 
 Large priceless peai-ls- wtte gleaming there--> 
 Would have bought Demonti'^ soul away — 
 Long pendants in their silver setting 
 Twined among the golden hair,, 
 That scarce restrained by silken netting^ 
 Flowed in masses everywhere j 
 There were sounds of laughter ringii^ 
 Lightly on the scented^ breeze ; 
 Contented slavery was singing 
 And dancing round the locust trees* 
 Tber« was a figure stealing lauad 
 
Amon^ the shadows cool nnd sweet ; 
 But little e >ho on the grouiKJ 
 Was wakened by that fi.^uie*ii feet. 
 
 Her earnest gaze was still ahidiii« 
 On thai blue sky, so still and cleur^ 
 When the planter's haut^hty striding 
 Jarred — unwelcome — on her car. 
 Before her unannounced he came, 
 His swarthy cheek seemed Hushing ^'^o^t 
 A shadow of the wine-cup's tiame 
 Was in his red unsettled eye. 
 She would hive fled, but courtesy 
 Made her unwiliiu^ly delay, 
 And he began in language free 
 To tell her all he longed to say ;; 
 He gaz?d on her with joy and pride j 
 So fair, beyond his utmost dreuming. 
 And spoke as to his destine I bride 
 In language that was scarcely seeming. 
 There came a change across her brow, 
 A strange expression to her eye, 
 Demonti saw his error now 
 As she stood before lii n silently ; 
 Yet oh, bhe was boaulifiil — beautiful— » 
 As she stood in that trar.aition hour ^ 
 The burning sun was on the bud. 
 Opening it rapidly into the flower, 
 Demonti saw a gathering cloud 
 Darkening his piospects iir away^ 
 
 \ 
 
10 
 
 And much he strove to speak aloud, 
 Dut he could uoi find the words to saj. 
 
 In that momettt o^er her came 
 A memory forgotten ion;; ^ 
 And she almost spoke her Father's name, 
 Beneath the impulse quick and strong — 
 Towaidd her mother, pure and sainted. 
 All her childish sorrows bore ; 
 And where was he — the untamented — 
 Never mourned or missed l)erore. 
 In this hour of douitt and danger, 
 Who is (here to shield her now — 
 To come between her and this stranger 
 Of the bold deterniin d brow. 
 She gazed around with mingled feeling 
 Of uncertainty and tear. 
 She saw that darksome figure stealing 
 Through the twilight, very near ; 
 A trusted slave, she knetv hi:n well, 
 A 8<range, erratic, wandering one — 
 But as her guze upon hint fell. 
 She was no longer all alone ; 
 " Ishmuel/' she called him loudly, 
 Instantly to her side he ctime : 
 He faced the planter culm but proudly, 
 And, lo ! their features were the same ; 
 Far behind the tiees meanwhile. 
 The moon was rising, large and bright, 
 The figures stood iu dark profile 
 
II 
 
 Between her and the yellow light ; 
 
 The low broad forehead, archin*^ browt^ 
 
 High Roman nose, of power the signy 
 
 Full sensual lip, and chin thit grows 
 
 Into the neck with rour.ded line. 
 
 The pUnter seemed the younger man. 
 
 Dashing and glitteria^ — pam-pored — bold — 
 
 The slave the more determined oney 
 
 Of ste.idier eye and stron;^er mould ; 
 
 And yet so clear those outlines grew, 
 
 The sickness of the heart cume o'er her. 
 
 Thou;irh young, and good, and pure, she knew 
 
 Thai these were brothers stood befori* her ; 
 
 They saw the paling of her cheelc. 
 
 Her look of utter chill dismtfiy 
 
 As each approached — with motion quick: 
 
 She waved Deraonti's arm away ; 
 
 And grasping at her slave's protection 
 
 She bade the planter leave her then ; 
 
 When she had spac^ for more reflection! 
 
 He should hear from her again. 
 
 She passed within ; but ere she passed 
 
 She caught the glance of rage and hate 
 
 The baffled angry suiior cast 
 
 Upon the slave of low estate } 
 
 She caught the wild triumphant flashy 
 
 That back a maddening answer gave — 
 
 The stealthy drooping of the lash, 
 
 That made her dread her father's slave. 
 
 Slbe passed within — her keart was 8i«k, 
 
li' 
 
 i i 
 
 li 
 
 12 
 
 She feared — she knew not wliat or whom — 
 She called her negro nurse, and quick 
 Retreated to her private room. 
 
 The door wos closed, without there stood 
 A bafQu'd sinner in his wraih, 
 With blood-shot eye and ven<reful mood 
 
 H 
 
 ith. 
 
 urscd her in his homeward 
 Within there Blood a dark-browed sbive, 
 According to the flesh his brother, 
 Who swore a stormy o'th to save 
 That child fiom him and every other. 
 The planter raved, as men will rave 
 With fiery passions disappointed — 
 The other swore by his' mother's "^rave — 
 A terrible oath from the desperate slave — • 
 For he swore by thr; saint he had annointed. 
 And each poor waif who from his birth 
 Hath fatherless, friendless. fon;afht his way, 
 If his mother was spared to bles» the health 
 With the smile of the love which hath no decay, 
 (For only death can qtiench its ray,) 
 Such can tell how memory lives 
 In the weary 8f)irit. a thing alone 
 And closer than the ivy loaves. 
 Clings to the heart that hath never known 
 To be loved but by the one alone, 
 And ream for his mother a funeral stone | 
 Such can dream how Tshmael stood 
 By Hagar's grave long, long ogoj . ; ^ ' - 
 
1$ 
 
 I 
 
 Whpn fiir ill the desert 8o^tud«», 
 Wi:h aick, sick heait ami throbbing brotr, 
 He laid his slave-horn mother low; 
 Where the ti^er mi^ht howl above her ^^rave. 
 And the lion roar for his midnight pre/. 
 Machpe'ah's silent ble.ssc^d cave 
 Was never meant for such ha ihey*-'* 
 Outcast of father, wise and ;7ood, ~^ 
 
 Goodness and wisdom to bim were naught. 
 Bone uf her bone — blood of her blood. 
 Life and love and sense and thought, 
 From the slave-born mother he hud caught. 
 Perchance as there the wild man stood 
 Whh hardened heai-t and burning brow 
 He swore the oath of deadly feud ; 
 Hii outcn.st nice is fight ni;; now 
 And fought a thousand years ago ; 
 And many nations have been shamed, 
 Wandering over the stranger's plain ; 
 But the wild Arabian never was tamed. 
 For Lshmaers blood is in his veins ; 
 Ah I there are IshmaePs heie and there, 
 Scattered among a meaner lace ; 
 And ere ye send them forth beware — 
 They yet may find their time and place. 
 Our Ishmael swOve his stormy oath, 
 But grim and silently he swore, 
 With moveiess eye ; alsis ! 'twas loath ' 
 To leave the close shut chamb^T door 
 
 Her garments Ip.st had fluttered o'er. 
 
14 
 
 Poor hopeless heart — brave hopeless heart- 
 That bearest thy load without repining. 
 Aware the meanest thing that crawls, 
 Hay gaze upon the sun when shilling. 
 
 H 
 
 But little deemed that moody slave 
 That she was listciiin'^ to his tale, 
 And learning why her parents gave 
 This ominous name of Ishmuel ; 
 lUn willing to retire to rest 
 She had detained old Mary Anne, 
 Her father's nurse, who knew the best, 
 The secret lives of every one. 
 
 The old Bemonti in his youth, 
 Brou;rht home a captive very fair, 
 But little like a slave in truth 
 Were her blue eyes and auburn hair ; 
 At time strange memories o'er ker flowed 
 Of infant days en other plains j 
 She deemed herself nu negro blood 
 Had ever circled in her veins ; 
 He bought her in the market place 
 And brought her home — a very child :; 
 She learned to love his dark brown face, 
 And gambol round him till he smiled ; 
 Alas — it was the old, old tale — 
 And yet he loved her many a day ; 
 But pride and a^rice scarce could fail 
 At length to wear such love away^ . 
 
15 
 
 A wealthy bride with wrathful heart. 
 Scowled on the slave ^irl and her son ; 
 There was no one to take tl.eir part. 
 And so the evil deed was done. 
 Aileen^s young mother heard with pain 
 Some whidper oF this heartless talc ] 
 She urged herlord to buy the twain, 
 Thii Hagar and this Ishmael ; 
 She named them thus because they were 
 Outcast, like those of sficred story ; 
 True nurse and page were t'ley to her, 
 Until her spirit passed to glory. 
 He was a lad of fuir fit teen 
 When driven from his place of birth, 
 And he had watched the young Aileen 
 Since fitst she smiled upon the earth. 
 
 The maidf^n sat subdued and pale, 
 Rocking slow in her cushioned chair ; 
 Listening to her nurse's tale 
 With a serious and bewildered air — 
 Of the sins that follow in s'lveiy's t'aee, 
 She scarcely could have missed lo hear ; 
 But she never had met them face to face, 
 Ugly and loathsome, and oh, so near. 
 
 Lon;^ she roclced in her cushioned chair 
 After her nursu had gnne to resi, 
 Struggling with a weight of care 
 That wai new and strange to her youthful breast. 
 
u 
 
 u 
 
 41 
 
 Tiint linughly ; Itintcr she ivuuld not wed-— 
 Why should she wed a^^uiiist htM' will ;/* 
 Iiiwuidly lht'80 proud woids hiiesitid ; 
 But she fell with a 8tiun;,'e iitsiiiiciive dread 
 That bemoiiti had crossed hur path lor ilk 
 It bi'eiiifd even now Unit suddenly 
 He had changed her true slave lor anolfaei'; 
 Her (rood kind Ishnniel couid not be 
 Demon ti's livul and his brother; 
 What had she done or what had she said 
 That to her iie was no <uoie t<lic same ; 
 That her heait btood still «\ith a pitii'ul drettd| 
 And she durst not even t/iink his name. 
 It was but the flat«h of n stron;^ man's eyc^ 
 T he quick contortion of his brow ; 
 The light through a miditight stoimy sky, 
 That shows for a moniei.t the wreck below. 
 Abs, alas, she hiid seeit the wreck, 
 And now she could not cease to know ; 
 Her strong, uiitaught imagination. 
 Revolting from those darksome men, 
 Bfheld with strange exaggeration 
 Whatever came before it then. 
 
 The 
 ICiH 
 
 Vaa«| 
 
 The 
 But 
 
 Wh( 
 
 Bv< 
 \Vh. 
 
 Long she recked in her cushioned chnir 
 Rehliz' g her lonesomeness, 
 Wondeiing if her parents were 
 Looking down on their child's distress. 
 Her corsil lamp burned fitful ly, 
 And her eyes grew open, wide — and wider, 
 
17 
 
 The ipirii waf looking forth to 
 
 If ihej were not even then beside her ; 
 
 Lung, with a yearning anxious wish^ 
 
 Vaialy into the empty air. 
 
 The spirit looke'l through the eye of flesh, 
 
 But who shall say tliey were not there 7 
 
 Who shall say they could not hear her 
 
 Even in their place of bliss? 
 
 Who shall say they were not near her 
 
 la a tiiul hour like this 7 
 
 There came a voice — not to her ear — 
 (Perchance it was'lier reason speaking) 
 That voice she fdt, but could not hear. 
 Was like the light through darkness breaking — 
 ^' This child was left in charge to one, 
 *^ Able and anxious to befriend her ^ 
 '* Why is she trembling here alone ? 
 i^ Tell \k\ttx to come this instant on, 
 ** His arm is wanted to deteud her." 
 
 The dawning came serene and grey, 
 She was Fenseless in her cushioned chair ) 
 But by her lamp a letter lay, 
 Directed to her guardian's care ; 
 Sealed and addressed in her own handwritiosTt 
 Folded carefullv and well : 
 But what was witliia or whose inditing, 
 
Tie planter's daughter ro..?^ 
 
 »o'"er coiiia never tefT. 
 
 And then 3he knew the Docor well 
 
 Buta3re™o^,„„„,etohc.rcame, ■ 
 He' eye upon the letter fell- 
 
 She looked a. it with .^vo sarpns., 
 <T'"" ^^''"i^ '»"» Doctor sa J: ' 
 
 W,ll see th,s letter safely s,,e^.„ '^ 
 
 The good man took i, fron, her hand 
 
 J''entoldl,erw;,ha,e„„e,™,-,e, 
 Tagotorestbyh(,con,„,„nd, 
 All would be w.„ i„ , ,i„,^, ,,.^;,^ 
 
Tt was a stirring time in Wadhington ; 
 Rebels were restless and true men were sad ; 
 Rumors of War across the country ran, 
 For tlie miqfhty South — alas 1 it had gone mad. 
 God help them to their senses ; power aad wealth 
 Are dangerous gifts to unregenerate man, 
 And for a soul's or for a country's heah-h, 
 It hath been so since ^at the ivorld began. 
 
 These were a very mixed and motley nation, 
 Master's and slaves, with every hue of face ; 
 An outward pressure for emancipation 
 Had stirred the passions of the dominant nee. 
 We know the issne now — alas I alas ! 
 This earth U very old in years and sin, 
 Yet hath it never seen a nation pass 
 Through fiery ordeal, such as this hath been ; 
 Woe, woe to slavery — since the world began, 
 (Save and except the fall from Paradise,) 
 The Devil's greatest triumph over man 
 Hath bean that ^' Institution " fenced with lies. 
 
 Firstly, he triumphed o'er the sable race, 
 Lords and possessors of the torrid zone ; 
 Chiefs, warriors, and the wild sons of the chase, 
 
I 
 
 "n 
 
 Down, bj the million, at hii fe«t were thrown. 
 What these have suflTered hath been fulljr ihown — 
 Again — again — this is an age uf li^ht ; 
 Till men familiar with the tale have grown, 
 And lost thftir honor in the frequent sight ; 
 But these men lost their natures ; bought and «ol(^ 
 And bred and lattened for the coihmon sfall, 
 Less innocent than beasts that crowd the fold, 
 The many sank, but not, thank heaven, the u hole ; 
 For here and there a bright intelligence 
 Shone out amid the darkness of their night ; 
 But these were feared, and with a hute intense 
 Thej strove to queuch ihe flickerings of the light. 
 
 The second triumph of the evil one 
 Was o'er the morals of- the dominant race ; 
 Pride, cruelty and passion all have grown. 
 Fostered by circumstance, and time and place } 
 The innate evil of the human nature. 
 Drawn out and heightened tr its very worst. 
 Hath been a strong and most appalling feature 
 Of that dread reign by which the land is cursed. 
 There hath been many a good and generous soul 
 In web of circumstance entangled still ; 
 Though yielding where they could not well control, 
 They did their best to mitigate the ill ; 
 But these were men and women who had come 
 From other lands where slavery is unknown ; 
 Or else had been abroad — away from home — 
 Until their minds enlarged and clear had growa. 
 
rn-^ 
 
 ale; 
 
 "ht. 
 
 « 
 
 >I, 
 
 ) 
 
 n 
 
 The i^reatest Aim of all their greatest mindi 
 S^th been t> extend and fence the evil thing. 
 Short sighted policy, the Devi) finds. 
 An easy means his dearest friends to sting. 
 
 The third and greatest triumph of the «rhoIe, 
 That Satan by the means of slavery won« 
 Was when the church bent down to his control, 
 Xhe darkness of a moral ni;^ht came on. 
 *Diirkness that might be felt was o'er the land, 
 When ministers, that should have been of God, 
 Bought, sold and held their slaves on every hand, 
 Perverting all the Scripture that they shewed — 
 Trying to prove their " Institution '' good, 
 Because civilization thence might spring— 
 And what in heaven's mercy if it should 
 By the overthrow of the accursed thing. p 
 
 What will be their reward — f *' Offence will come, 
 '' But woe, woe unto hira by whom it comeih ; 
 '^ Better a mill-stone round his neck were hung, 
 " To the bottom of the sea that he were flung.** 
 'Tis thus the Holy Book the question summeth — 
 But once they were rebuked, for so it fell. 
 An infant church had souuht around for aid ; 
 The wealthy South, who eould afford it well, 
 Great contnbutions for the purpose made. 
 And when the gold had come across the main, 
 t A reverend man, of Scotland's stubborn soil, 
 
 * Bzodus, 10th chap., 91st verse, 
 t Lake, 17th chap., 2nd verse. 
 t Bev. J)r. Buma, Toronto, C. W* 
 
2» 
 
 I 
 
 Stood up and bade triem send it back again. 
 
 Nor dare pollute their cause with such a spoil. 
 
 " Touch not the price of human flesh and blood/' 
 
 The many thought him righteous to excess ; 
 
 But firmly to this single point he stood — 
 
 " Send back the mammon of unrighteorsnass.'* 
 
 What indignation did those Southerns fi!l^ 
 
 When even one condemned thdr dollai-s bright ] 
 
 That grand old man — thank God we have him still — 
 
 Let none for^ret to honor him ariirht. 
 
 We know of * one who, every Sabbath day, 
 
 Doth wrestle mightily with God to save j 
 
 And leads his people on with him to pray. — 
 
 Lord, in thy grace have pity on the slave. 
 
 t Verily the fervent and effectual prayer 
 
 Of a righteous man availcth much we know ^ 
 
 Honor to aW\n such a cause who share — 
 
 *' Lord look upon their flocks," and spare them long below. 
 
 Darkness that might be felt was o'er the land 
 For many a day ; then slowly came the light, 
 And men began at length to understand — 
 The might could never constitute the right— 
 A few good men hud labored long and well — 
 t Laboured all night and tp.ken nothing in j 
 At length they saw their weary efforts tell, 
 And slavery was named — ** The national sin." 
 
 ♦ Rev. Archibald Cross, IngersoU, C. W. 
 t James, 5th chap., lOth verse. 
 i Luke, 5th chap., 5th verse. 
 
23 
 
 Then there arose a woman of the North, 
 Who told of slavery in a t uthful tale j 
 And for that they were truth her words went forth. 
 And raised a tempest that made tyrant*s quail. 
 And there arose a strange, enthusiast * man — 
 Reckless of danger — sanguine o«F success j 
 Startling the selfish world with his wild plan — 
 So wondrou<i in its single heartedness, 
 To raise the sons of bondage from distress — 
 The age being selfish in its very core, 
 Its joy and grief, iU hMe, and evea its love 
 Was therefore moved and startled even more 
 By this unselfish man, who vainly strove 
 To raise the miirkms by his single arm ] 
 And failing, went, resigned his death to meet, 
 And lo, his gallows acted like a charm. 
 The children sung his praises in the street ; 
 The mocking spirit of the age went forth 
 in threats ^ grotesque against the murdeicrs hurled. 
 A fearful earHestne:>s ther*3 lurked beneath 
 Those songs of mingled drollery and death, 
 For ** John Brown's soul was marching through the world." 
 xVnd onwards, onwards still that influence spread, 
 Until the South was filled with jealous fears j 
 ** Wham the gods would destroy they first make mad.'' 
 
 W liT * »'* 
 
 * The wildaud romantic uayecly oi" Joan Browns* djath follow- 
 ing the rash attair at Harpers; i^'erry, is* too well known to require 
 connnent. This event and the hold it took on the public mind are 
 perhaps without parallel in his^tory, 
 
 t Many absurd songs, chiefly to the air of tlie great marching 
 hymn — " John Browns spirit is marching through the world,' ' were 
 cuj^u.iooA ail over— eyeu lu Canada. 
 
, I 
 
 
 Yet still t1i9 fiend could stop their eyes and earsy 
 They toould not see the li^ht — women and men^ 
 Filled highf with passion, pride and jealous ire — 
 Fair wom3n vowed to see their kindred sl«n> 
 E'er they would pay the laborer his hire* ? 
 That vow was kept — for when they could no morer 
 Cjnti'ol th3 cotmscU of thsir native land 
 The Union into shredi they madly tore 
 And scattered ruin upon every hand. 
 Armies against each other have been hurled^ 
 Such carna;re neve-r waa beneath the sun". 
 This Union was the hope of all tlie world, 
 These are the deeds that slavery hath done. 
 
 These are the triumphs of the evil power^ 
 The insatiate fiend who stalks by night and daj- 
 •Lilce a roaring lion seeking to devour,. 
 For ever roaring — raging for hia prey. 
 We know f the angel will come down at last 
 And seize the dragon — that old serpent fell — 
 Which is the Davil and Satan — seize him fast 
 And chain him for a thousand years in hell. 
 No more shall he deceive the nations then — 
 How long, Oh Lord, when will the rest begin t 
 Mistaken women and mistaken men, 
 Pray that your sufierings expiate your sm. 
 
 We know the issue now, though not the end ^ 
 
 * 1st Peler, &th chapw, 8th verae. 
 t Revelationa, SOth diap.» 1st verae^ 
 
25 
 
 But at the time our story left' Aileen, 
 
 Though statesmen feared the storm might soon descend, 
 
 No outward signs of trouble yet had been — 
 
 Old Carolina had not yet ariien, 
 
 The lone star h »d not shid its b ineful li^ht, 
 
 The elements of evil seemed in prison j 
 
 Only a few could read the signs aright j 
 
 But still true men were looking out n-head, 
 
 As seamen gaze upon a threatening sky. 
 
 Senator Cameron was one who road 
 
 Sijrns of the times with keen and anxious eye. 
 
 Tliis man had once been poor ; his parents cams 
 
 From a small Island where the ocean breaks 
 
 On mighty rocks ; that country hath a fame 
 
 For heroes, heather-bells and oaten cakes. 
 
 They came from Scotland, young and newly wed, 
 
 To seek a home, but found an early grave. 
 
 Their orphan boy in poverty was bred, 
 
 But struggled hard, for he was young and brave. 
 
 Aileen*s stern faiher marked him for awhile 
 
 With his keen worldly eye, and he descried 
 
 An energy of purpose in his toil 
 
 That sought but to be properly applied. 
 
 He took him as his clerk to forei/n lands : 
 
 He found the youth was honest, brave and true, 
 
 Bver his master's interest and commands 
 
 Being foremost in the young adventurer's view ; 
 
 Then he stretched forth his hand and helped him oiii 
 
 And from that time his fortune ever smiled^ 
 
 The planter loved the merchant as a aoni 
 
 
r 
 
 U 
 
 And left him guardian of his only child. 
 
 This man was now a Senator, tmd deep 
 
 In state affairs before his dc^sk he sat^ 
 
 While anxiously he waded through a heap 
 
 Of corrcspoiidonee. Some was dull and flat. 
 
 And some was more exciting. Still he read 
 
 And filed each letter as he passed it by j 
 
 8ome for immediate answer laid aside ) 
 
 When one of strange appearance caught his eye 
 
 A lady's hand — he took it with a smile, 
 
 But his brow altered sudden as he read ; 
 
 In spite of his stout heart his cheek grew pale, 
 
 For this wiis Aileen's message from the dead. 
 
 A 
 
 t 
 
 il 
 
 ** My father says he left his child to one 
 ^' Able and surely willing to befriend her, 
 ** And he would know why she is here alone. 
 '' He says that thou must come this instant on, 
 *' Because thine arm is warned to defend her." 
 There was no signature, except " Aileen." 
 He read it over — over and again ; 
 ^' Is the child mad or dreaming ; she hath seen 
 '' The father who so long in death hath lair.'' 
 He had received a letter even now, 
 Frotti the overseer, stating all was well, 
 But these s'range earnest words, they looked somehow 
 Not like the tale a dieaming chi]4 would tell. 
 There was a something in the bold rebuke 
 That sounded sternly like his old friend's tone j 
 A conscious negligence his conscience shook — 
 
 HHil 
 
"^ 
 
 i 
 
 27 
 
 F^or he had left his charue too much alone. 
 
 Across his door a great white dog whs lyin^ — 
 A post the creature kept by night and d;»y. 
 His dam upon the planter's grave lay crying 
 When Cameron took the brute by force away j 
 Old Hickory was a noble dog and rare, 
 Who knew as much as many a human being, 
 And he half rose and watched his master there, ^ 
 With all the faculty he had of seeing. 
 He watched the uneasy workings ot the soul 
 Upon his features for a little while ; 
 Then stretched his neck and raised a long wild howl — 
 The master started, then he tried to smile — 
 A poor attempt — he took his hat and cane. 
 He locked his desk and pocketed t'le key, 
 Looked at his railway guide— again — again— 
 E'er he discovered what he wished to see. 
 Then he went forth ; when far into the street 
 Old Hickory following close behind was seen, 
 He did not bid his faithful friend retreat, 
 And so he started forth to meet Aileen, 
 
^iHih 
 
 '< i 
 
 The planfer's d'ui<,u 
 
 ■'^heir mistress stmvn i *""® »*^«J' 
 
 «•■« •^•'J not ,ry , :• 1 , ""• "' ^"^ '• 
 B"' slill her liitie needle J . *""''' 
 
 Sfce had dressed' ,hr„ '''''' '^"^ '• 
 
 -"di;;::::::^----^^ 
 
 That ge J, ;,;;"« -•"■ «■•«««>» of fi.U 
 
 ^ ""dt would have bourK* „ 
 S«en,ed only resli„. ;„ ;,, „„" , , ""'""'^'". (h^one 
 
 J'« color came and Co "T '""" '• 
 l'-o^e,hesa„.esof.s'lr °'^"' 
 
 *V«'nl.ernu-ndwle 1'T1''^^°"'' 
 J--hpa,e.en::;;LX^^^^^^^^ 
 
 ___J2^;^^^^^;^^^^jmion, ,oom, 
 
» 
 
 Wldb open caienients courted eTerv breez6| 
 
 And there was light and benuty and perfume, 
 
 And fans and humming birds and honey bees. 
 
 She had not dared to wuhder forth alone 
 
 Since last her dreaded lover made her flee ^ 
 
 More thoughtful and less childish she had grown, 
 
 And, Oh, more beautiful, if that could be ! 
 
 'Twus but a day or two j but it had seemed 
 
 A long, long time since she h&d feared and dreamed. 
 
 There was a sound of wheels — a slight commotiGio^-^ 
 The door was opened and a servant cume j 
 The ihaiden shewed no visible emotion 
 As he feinnounced at length her guardian's name. 
 And there came in a hot and dusty man. 
 Of earnest aspect and of middle height. 
 Dark curly hair and beard ; his cheek was brown, 
 His forehead very broad and high and white-; 
 Large, keen ^nd searching were his hazel eyes — 
 And as the maiden (luickly rose to meet him. 
 He fixed them on her with a still surprise. 
 That for a moment checked the power to greet him ^ 
 He had seen her last a little playful child-^ 
 Sent her last Christmas a gigantic dolI-»- 
 And now, astonishment at length beguiled 
 The man of his habitual s>3lf-control. 
 They stood an instant there and faced each other : 
 ** Good Lord," he prayed, '' to reason now restore me j 
 ** Li\dy— 'thy likeness lo thy sainted mother 
 ■** Would make me think I see her child before ire— 
 
30 
 
 ^' • :«"-"».ei;j a:::;r:''; 
 The wondorin.: '''""' ''^^^'■^"''y arm. 
 Sent them on .?-«-° ""^^'"^ « ^^^r, 
 
 ^' ••■« ha„ d„o: .hi opt t 7'"' '""' '• 
 They heard a r«,.|c a slffl ?•''*'"' 
 The great whi,e do?;:, !r"^ ''''''»''- 
 
 I» shone with .|eams nf '''"' 
 
 "^-.,H,o,o.,.r;r^:oh;^,,, 
 
 " G've me ,he dog-l b„o„ , 7°' ''^ J"' be .hine 
 f'"n .».-.ed the Sena o 1 "T^r ' ''"''"•'•" 
 
 " ^o^ he ha.h chosen a l„d f °"*"' ""' ■"'"*. 
 The do.r la- rf„ " '"''' "> nttend." 
 
 At« . V ""'""'■eraesatihevji.^ 
 
 ^' fi--' .he maiden found i, haH Zl "^ 
 
n 
 
 '* Demonti here— ihe sensual villian famed 
 
 *' Even in Virginia for his gross career. 
 
 " Deinonti here, and I — I stand condemned 
 
 " Of my own conscience; little should I wonder 
 
 *' To hear the voice of my departed friend 
 
 *< Denounce me from the grave in tones of thunder. 
 
 " My child " — and as he spoke his earnest eye 
 
 Looked like her father's, now so grave and kind. 
 
 " My child, I will not ask thee how or why 
 
 *♦ This wholesome dread hath come across thy mind j 
 
 " This man is of a likely form and face 
 
 '* To catch an inexperienced maiden's eye, 
 
 ** But ot a turbulent and godless race, 
 
 " Unfit to breathe the air where thou art nigh. 
 
 " It was thy father's will to rear thee here 
 
 " Upon thine own plantation as a Queen j 
 
 " But now with such a dangerous neighbor near^ 
 
 " It will be well at once to change the scene j 
 
 ** Tomorrow choose among thy servant train 
 
 " The maids who are accustomed to wait on thee, 
 
 " And take thy father's nurse, old Mary Anne, 
 
 ** To see they pr.ictise no deceit upon thee. 
 
 " Thou hast a noble house in Washington, 
 
 / Closed up while many a year hath glided by j 
 
 *' There thou canst reign a Queen among thine own, 
 
 " And I can watch thee with a guardian's eye." 
 
 He would have said a brother's, but he changed 
 
 The word, yet wherefore he could hardly tell ; 
 
 So they conversed and had their plans arranged 
 
 Till the late ringiig of the dinner bell. 
 
 

 It 
 
 32 
 
 The hot and duKty man went up to di-ess 
 
 And make himself Bt for a ludy'ti eye ; 
 
 The Ovei'seei' and (he Governess 
 
 Sat At the table, stiff and silently. 
 
 The Senator sat in his old ft iend*s chair. 
 
 The Governess Sitt at the tabic head ; 
 
 Four negroes in whitu iiiieii gaiAients there, 
 
 Waited a table sumptuously spread, 
 
 And still Old Uickoiy maintained his place, 
 
 Sitting serene behind his lady's chair ; 
 
 They would have turned him outwards in disgrace, 
 
 •But she raised her little hand and eaid '* Foibeai- ; 
 
 And so the Guardian niid ihe Goveiness, 
 
 The Overseer and tiie servants tail, 
 
 ■Said not a woid, none caring to express 
 
 ^Dissent from her AVho'toual ruled thc-m all. 
 
 The dinner past, the Overseer went forth, 
 And Cameron with him o'er the grounds awhile ; 
 They talked of trade — what the last crop was worth j 
 State of the slaves, and proper hours of toil. 
 The' Overseer was a woi thy man, 
 Who did his work,'bat little had to say ; 
 He cordially agreed with Cameron's plaa 
 To-take the heiress for a time away. 
 ^' She wants a chajj;;e," he said, " it would be well 
 ** To take her for a drive this afternoon j 
 '* She has not been abroad siitce that befell, 
 '* And I can harness the great carriage soCn." 
 
 The gentle girl received the iuvitatioQ 
 
n 
 
 k 
 
 
 With calm compliance as her guardian's will ^ 
 The great old coach was put in requisftion. 
 And off they started over vale and hill. 
 Thegtardian drove — Aileen sat by his side— 
 The Governess and m.iid hud seats behind, 
 ft was a [jleasant evening for a ride, 
 Though rather d>in ^erons for his peace of mind ; 
 Wrapped in her crimson manlio that Would throw 
 Across her fair yoaii^ cheek a shuda so bright, 
 With that strange ornament upoii her bro^v, 
 Still flashing forth fantastic gleams of light, 
 With the golden hair th it would not be restrained, 
 Blown o'er her shoulders by the evening breeze 5 
 Too bright a thing she seemed to be retained 
 Long among sordid beings such as these. 
 
 Tei was it not, althoagli at- times it seomedy 
 The accidents of dress or situd^tion ; 
 Whate'er she wore, or did, or said, or dreamed, 
 Seemed that which most excited admiration ; 
 If her bare feet had trod the withered grass, 
 Her golden hair hung in a tangled maze, 
 In peasant^s humblest g.irb she could not pass, 
 But men had turned to wonder and to gaze. 
 Aileen would have refined ihe lowliest cot, 
 To which her spiritual natuie had been given -j 
 Among the vile had foitune cast her lot, 
 She would have died and passed away to heaven. 
 
 Since first Demonti had preferred his Siii^ 
 
34 
 
 A shade had rested on the maiden's mind f 
 
 Dread of her helplessness and his pursuit, 
 
 Made her to thoughtful silence much iuclined. 
 
 Now in the strength of him who sat beside her^ 
 
 A sense of safety o'er her spirit stole, 
 
 Trusting the one her father willed to guide her^ 
 
 The weight of dread was lifted from her soul f 
 
 And they got into pleasant conversation,. 
 
 First of her parents, then of other days. 
 
 She was so quick of thought and observation^ 
 
 Yet so unlearned iu all the worldly ways, 
 
 That now at her strange ignorance she smiled ; 
 
 And then he wondered when h« came to see 
 
 She trusted him as might a little child, 
 
 Yet seemed to read his thoughts so easily,. 
 
 And dimly he began to comprehend 
 
 Why she had feared Demontt when be came^ 
 
 And why she called upon her fathers friend^ 
 
 And used unconsciously her father* s name. 
 
 The keen perception of her spiritoal nature 
 
 Was like Ithuriel's spear in Paradise, 
 
 Which Milton tells but touched a loathsome creature 
 
 To start the demon out of bis disguise. 
 
 Tt wt 
 And te 
 pot ev 
 It.was 
 
 Amoni 
 
 Ahea 
 
 Once 
 
 And J 
 
 Andl 
 
 Nothing knew she of those unearthly powers. 
 But only laughed to see her guardian wonder, 
 And made them stop the coach to gather flowers. 
 And shake the old rose trees as she stood under f 
 And then she watched the great red san descending^ 
 And wondered who was watching him arise ; 
 
35 
 .,„ a. .low their homeward co«r». OS beudmj. 
 
 "^"'rJmluiB earnest, «arcWng eye,. 
 A.t times she mev » 
 
 n was aple--ldnve,anatbey went home, 
 
 .irwas,preadoutinlV.eopeua.r, 
 And tea wa l- ^^ ._^ ^ g„„ 
 
 ''°' "'rirwU to have U there. 
 '''""'':; 1th good old Doctor came, 
 
 Among the '^''^la], his head was grey, 
 * hearty man althougn •"» " 
 n. more her hospitality to claim, 
 
 AU bat tne plantation grown ; 
 
 The coffee on heu^own P ^^^ ^^^^ ^ . 
 
 Rich autamn ^"^^^^^ „^,„ ^He sun was down , 
 Fresh strawberries gatherea 
 
 That when the p»rtm„ 
 
 He sighed to think it could not come , 
 
 Withinthegardenw-a^ttyto-^^^^ 
 BoiU high for coolueMiatl-twW'y 
 
3$ 
 
 And gaily fitted as a lady^s bower, 
 Where Aileen sometimes slept in summer time ; 
 The Governess had so arranged to-night, 
 That this last evenin;:: the*' should slumber there. 
 The lady's room was high and le.rge and bright, 
 The others low. Beneath the winding stair 
 She bade them all goodnight and then retired. 
 The dog who never yet had left her side — 
 All evening she had fed him and admired — 
 Now also gravely rose with solemn pride, 
 First up to his old master slow he strode, 
 And looked into his face and lick<?d his hand. 
 Then he sat down and howled and howled aloud, 
 That long, wild cry they could not understand ; 
 Then as he looked so sad and passed away, 
 A kindred sadness on their spirits fell, 
 But e'er the dawning of another day 
 They knew the meaning of the dog's farewell. 
 
 A stealthy form came creeping through the night 
 Behind the tower where shrubs and trees grew high j 
 Alow wide window shewed a gleam of light. 
 Therein it slipped — thief-like and cautiously — 
 The trembling Governess who met him there. 
 From his right hand received a golden stare. 
 Then she crept out and fled — we know not where — 
 That wretched woman ne'er was heard of more. 
 
 The Doctor went with Cameron to his room, 
 And then he told him that the Overseer 
 
37 
 
 Had sent a hurried note to bid him come 
 And tell the guardian what he ought to hear j 
 The honest Overseer's words were few, 
 And the learned man could do the business better | 
 So first he told the little that he knew 
 Of that strange trance wherein she wrote the letter ; 
 He knew not what the letter had contained, 
 But shrewdly guessed, it brought the guardian here ; 
 And then he said:— '^ Her fancy must be reined, 
 ^ But could not be by harsh control or fear ; 
 '< Too idly hath she spent her childhood's hours 
 *^ In vague, vain dreamiags of her sainted mother ; 
 *^ Now take her hence and give her birds and flowers, 
 *^ But let her feed the one and tend the other ; 
 '^ Get energetic teachers that can win 
 " Her interest in studies set before her 5 
 *^ Music or languages, could such begin 
 " To exercise a wholesome influence o'er her, 
 '* It would be \»ell, above all earthly things j 
 " Keep her from Spiritualism in every shape, 
 ^^ That dangerous tendency around her clings, 
 '' But keep it from her and she will escape — 
 *' For with her mother's spiritual nature 
 " There is a blending of her father's will j 
 ^' She bears the mother's angel form and feature, 
 M But his strong reason is within her still. 
 <.' Keep all away— -from, dreamy, earnest men, 
 f^ W^hose shadowy (peculations have been spread 
 f^ O'er space and earth, and Heaven and Qell, apd. then 
 '/ No ligh^ but only misty vapou,r shedy 
 
m 
 
 *' Down to the charlatan who sits m state, 
 ^* To hold unhallowed converse with the dead, 
 *' And raise the spirits of the great, to wait 
 *' Upon the crowd for fifty cents a head. 
 ^^ Keep all away — the men who mesmerize, 
 *^ Biologists, Psychologists, and all, 
 *^ If the hungry ravens scented such a prisie, 
 ^' Wo to the maid and to her father's hall. 
 *^ This is a hard task for a single man, 
 ** And, as her oldest friend, if I may dare 
 *^ To speak the truth, this lovely orphan, one 
 '' Reft of her parents, needs a husband's c:;re.'' 
 The good man stayed his speech before the frown 
 That gathered sternly on his listener's brow. 
 ^* Enough of this, my worthy friend, have done } 
 ^^ It is iio subject to be canvassed now.'' 
 
 
 He stood alone, and gazed in moody thought 
 From his low window on the garden tower. 
 Upon his cheek a round red burning spot 
 Betrayed the bitter feeling of the hour. 
 And thus he thought — ^^ If her quick eye should see 
 <' Aught but the gentle kindness of a brother, 
 <' What would become of all her trust in me ? 
 ^< She would spurn me from her as she did the other. 
 ^' I have spent my life for rank and wealth and station' 
 " Baubles that at her feet I durst not lay. 
 *^ All that I had worthy her acceptatioa 
 
t% 
 
 *^ Was ike poor dog wlio ^lek my aide ito day ^ 
 
 ^^ Strange to mj reasoa doth this thing appear, 
 
 '^ That man and brute she draws \vith such control ; 
 
 ^' She is some being of another sphere, 
 
 ** A.nd I will root this weakness from tmy iio«A. 
 
 '^'ilow will Demonti (Hirse me in his wrath ; 
 
 "** This was a rare prize that he thought to gain ^ 
 
 '* Thank God I came across the villain's path — 
 
 *^ He shall not look upon her face again." 
 
 "She sat alone:; *£fae moon rede high, 
 Like a golden bowl in the midnight sky:; 
 IB'rom whence some viewless angel's hand 
 Was pouring light o*er that lovelj land. 
 ^n every blade of grass it fell, 
 And every drop c^f dew as well :; 
 ^n every leaf of every tree 
 it shone and it glittered so radiantly^ 
 Through her open lattice came floods of light, 
 On her golden hair and her garments whiteii 
 As weary with this exciting day 
 She rested in its soothing ray ; 
 For ever on natures such as thif, 
 Too sensitive to paan or bliss, 
 The moonlight hath mysterious po^er, 
 And most about the midnight hour 
 To shed with soft and dewy wings 
 A hopeful aspect o'fir eaithly things j 
 
4tt 
 
 And a holj sense of peaceful' rest 
 
 On the quiverijig nerves and throbbing breasts 
 
 Upon her band' slie leaned her bead, 
 
 And breathed the perfume her roses shed ^ 
 
 So sweetly it came on the eveniiip; air^ 
 
 She wondered how long they would bloom so fair y 
 
 It seemed as if Ibpy should all decay^ 
 
 When she who loved ^env was far away f 
 
 She thought it' so hard she could not dwell 
 
 In the old plantation she loved so well. 
 
 Voices well known rose on the breeze — 
 Singing fantastic melodies ^ 
 For dusky forms came oft at e'en 
 To serenade their youthfiirl Queen». 
 Their songs, which woni to be light and- glad^^. 
 Sounded this evening low and sad } 
 Bow could plantation soogt^ be gay 
 When the light of alt eyes was to pass away t: 
 Still it was sweet to her listening ear, 
 These low, soft melodies, to hear y 
 Breathing at close of every strairv 
 This long and pitiful refrai^n :^ 
 Oh, lady, leave us not, or soon come Back agaib. 
 In other days she would have thrown 
 Small silver coins, a handful down, 
 But the silken purse she now enrolled 
 Was filled with dollars of gleaming gold ; 
 And when she had waited and listened long^ 
 To hjer tesenaders and their son^^ 
 
41 
 
 She scattered them down like a golden ram, 
 As a kind farewell to all the train. 
 
 When the gold was gathered and these were gone^ 
 Again for awhile she felt alone, 
 A little spoce of calm enjoyment—* 
 For she was in her old employment—* 
 Di'eaming-^ieaming of the past — •- 
 Wondering why it could' not lust ; 
 And dreaming, too, she knew not vrhj^. 
 Of a dusty roan with an earnest eye. 
 Contrasting hi*« white determined brow 
 With Demonti's dark and fiery glow. 
 But little was she dreaming then 
 How she would mpct these twain again. 
 
 She was startled from her reveries 
 By a strong maii'^s voice upon> the breeze- 
 A voice that thrilled her every vein. 
 With a sudden searching pain. 
 Alas I alas 1 she knew it well — t 
 Her lost, forgotten Ishmael.. 
 
 Wild and brief was his serenade, 
 Offc repeated the words he said j 
 One only thought there seemed to be : 
 " Oh lady, let me die for thee j 
 ** No other hope in earth or heaven 
 « Can ever to the slave be given j^ 
 ^ But hear hiS' last despairiji^ qry :.. 
 
42 
 
 "x Lady, ladjy let him di6. 
 ** Oh how sweet would be the grave 
 "** To the mad and desperate slave ; 
 *i For mercj'3 sake give ear to me, 
 ** And tell me how to -die for thee." 
 
 Before the wild sal strain was past 
 fier tears were falling hot and fast; 
 The slave with a throb of quick surprise 
 Beheld her kerchief at her eyes. 
 Out from the shadow at ouce he stood — 
 That tall dark man of doubtful blood — 
 And with a gesture proud and fasty 
 As if he could command at last ; 
 ** Give it to me," she heard him call, 
 And — God forgive her — she let it fall. 
 Up from the earth he sprung with a bound, 
 Caught it midway ere it reached the ground, 
 Buried his face in its soft perfume, 
 And fled once more to his native gloam. 
 
 ^e closed the casement quickly down, 
 She turned away and tried to frown; 
 But only sighed, with a weary breast. 
 And thought she would retire to rest 
 Too late to call her maidens there, 
 She turned to the glass to unbraid her hair ; 
 Ghastly pale was her opal stone, 
 Like a dead man's eye on her brow it shone } 
 She turned with superstitious fear 
 
43 
 
 To see wiiat venothous thing was neafk 
 
 There came a sudden flash of flame) 
 
 And a dreaded voice that called her name \ 
 
 A man who sunk on his bended knee — 
 
 Demonti — or the fiend was he. 
 
 ** Lady, I have come to save, 
 
 << The Guardian hath doomed thee to the grave | 
 
 (< To gain thy wealth he hath fired the tower, 
 
 *^ But fly with me beyond his power ; 
 
 ^^ I heard of the plot, and all alone 
 
 *' I have come to save thee for mine own*'' 
 
 Clumsily done, though well conceived^ 
 Not for an instant was she deceived. 
 Only that sudden pause she made 
 To call her reason to her aid. 
 She turned to fly — but the strong man's grasp 
 Caught her at once in its iron clasp j 
 She had not time to struggle or scream, 
 For quick as thought or lightning's gleam^ 
 Her long bed curtains were unrolled, 
 And out from among the silken fold 
 A wild beast sprung, with sudden bound. 
 And pinned the ruffian to the ground. 
 So large, so fierce and dreadful, he — 
 That gentle dog it could not be — 
 Yea, with a growl like thunder's note 
 Old Hickory clung to his brawny throat. 
 She fled, but not to the downward floor — 
 The battle raged across the door ; 
 
44 
 
 Upwards Mhe fled by a little stair 
 
 To the top of the tower which was flat and square ; 
 
 Should her terrible lover again come nigh, 
 
 She thought she could spring to the earth and die i 
 
 But she clasped her hands and wildly prayed 
 
 To the Lord above to send her aid. 
 
 By and by she heard the flume 
 
 Crackling as it up-vards came ; 
 
 Bells were rung in her father'ct hall; 
 
 The great gong sounded over all ^ 
 
 Men and women with shout and scream, 
 
 Came like phantoms of a dream ^ 
 
 Then she stretched her arms of snow 
 
 In prayer to the crowd below-^ 
 
 Oh, it is bard for youth to die 
 
 With friends and love and hope so nigh. 
 
 As Cameron still at the window stood. 
 And looked at the tower in bis bitter mood, 
 He saw the first bright flash of flame 
 That over the second window came. 
 He knew the terrors that were in store. 
 For Cameron had been in a fire before ; 
 He rung his bell till he pulled it down — ^ 
 Woolen covers there were none — 
 With a madman's strength he quickly tor^ 
 The costly carpet from the floor, 
 (}q% the silken rop^s away 
 
45 
 
 That declced his couch in fair arroy ; 
 
 Still shouting '' Fire »' with nil his mighf, 
 
 He sprung through the window low and light. 
 
 The gong from the Overseer's room 
 
 Was sounding now like the voice of doom j 
 
 Alarum bells were clanging loud 
 
 To raise the whole plantation crowd. 
 
 Into the fish-pool glittering near 
 
 He dipped with all his cumbrous gear. 
 
 Up in the twinkling of an eye, 
 
 Lo 1 upon the turret high 
 
 Alone she stood — his ward — his love — 
 
 With the fire below and the sky above. 
 
 Even while with his innermost brain he prayed 
 
 To the orphan*s God to send her aid. 
 
 He carght the foremost man and said : 
 
 '^ Get softest cushions, cast them round, 
 
 *' Cover every spot of ground ; 
 
 ** Come to the worst f can fling her down.*' 
 
 And the Doctor answered, ** It shall be done." 
 
 As in at the open door he ran, 
 
 Before him rushed another man 
 
 Clad in summer thin attire. 
 
 " Back, naked madman, from the fire.'* 
 
 Defiance flashed from the Tshmael's eye — 
 
 " Proud Senator the slave can die." 
 
 Words between them passed no more. 
 
 But up the stair and in at the door 
 
 They heard as 'twere a lion growling, 
 
 A human being cursing, howling. ., ; ; ;. 
 
46 
 
 Demonti had drawn his bowie knife 
 
 And fought the wild dog for his life ; 
 
 With hair erect and burning eyes 
 
 Dilated to an awful size. 
 
 The brute was up and the man was down. 
 
 Another instant the dog was thrown. 
 
 With the strength and valor of despair, 
 
 Demonti was thrusting every where, 
 
 As up he rose the red blood ran 
 
 Alike from the dog and from the man ; 
 
 Up reared the brute ] in an instant more 
 
 His hind feet only touched the floor } 
 
 They were equals then in height ; 
 
 They were equals then in might j ' 
 
 And oh, they were a dreadful p&ir 
 
 As they fought for the planter's daughter there, 
 
 The slave upon the planter sprang, 
 « Where is our lady fair ?'* 
 But Cameron's voice like thunder rang, 
 <* Which is the upward stair ?'* 
 Demonti turned to fight them all 
 Like a lion brought to bay ; 
 But Ishmael understood the call, 
 And he sprang to lead the way j 
 His linen garments caught on fire. 
 For the stair was biasing o'er ^ 
 On pressed the Cameron high and higher, 
 And he saw them all no more, 
 
 Heayen its mildest light was pouring 
 
4r 
 
 i)own upon her blessed head ; 
 
 Earth its wildest rage was roaring 
 
 Where her feet were forced to tread.. 
 
 She could hear that savage battle, 
 
 Her dreadful lover eurse and rave ; 
 
 She could hear the din and rattle 
 
 Of the crowd who tried to save ; 
 
 She knew the noble dog had saved her 
 
 From all she dreaded under Heaven. 
 
 The boon for which her slave had craved her^ 
 
 Alas, she knew it had been given ; 
 
 She knew her father and her mother 
 
 Watched her with their glorious eyes | 
 
 She did not know there was auather 
 
 Almost now a sacrifice c 
 
 She heard the wooden staircase crashing^ 
 Ijttle more she heard or knew, 
 For o'er the burning fragments dashing 
 A form uncouth came into view ^ 
 Grim with smoke and scorched with fire^ 
 Through that whirlwind of flame, 
 Only saved by his dank attire, 
 Bruised and bloody and black he came» 
 He threw his heavy covering down, 
 And then she saw, with mate surprise, 
 The earnest man from Washington, 
 Who looked in her face with her father's eyes. 
 He caught her in his arms at length, 
 And io tht lelfsame wrapper wound her, 
 
IS 
 
 Carefully with all his strengtK 
 He bound the silken cords ar'iund her. 
 One end he tied secure and fust 
 To a little turret near ; . 
 
 Then he kissed her brow at last, 
 And whispered comfuit in her ear% 
 He covered all her golden hnir — 
 Leaving just a space to breathe ; 
 Then, with a mingled shout and prayer, 
 He swung her to the crowd beneath. 
 A gentle Southein breeze was blowing, 
 Which, although it fanned the flame. 
 Made it less intense and glownig 
 On the side from whence it came. 
 Stifled were the women's cries, 
 Stifled even the voice of prayers- 
 Only a sea of human eyes 
 Watched the dark speck in the air. 
 Every heart had ceased to beat, " . 
 Hands were clenched or clasped together ) 
 The very earth beneath their feet 
 Almost seemed to know and shiver. 
 
 In midair a sudden slop 
 Told the cord had run its length ; 
 His life depended on the rope, . 
 Which he had lied with all his strength. 
 " God protect her, t must die, 
 " Have mercy on my passing soul ; " 
 He strove the knotlings to untie, 
 
 ^r^ *. 
 
4tf 
 
 At throngh hit brain the prayer fto!e. 
 As he bent to drop hor down 
 'Midit Bof'.est cushions piLd in store^ 
 ** Stop, for Heaven's sake hi U tn, 
 ** Hold the rope an instant more/' 
 Shouted one with trum.nt tone- 
 He had heard that voice before. 
 
 Coat or hat or shoes he had none, 
 With head and feet all white and bare ; 
 On the top of a ladder all alone, 
 Through rounded fists to strengthen his tone ; 
 The Doctor was shuutin .^ i.i the air- 
 Thrice the flames had forced him down. 
 But the breeze had changed and he was there. 
 Stretching high above his head, 
 He untied the rope that bound her ; 
 And safely down the ladder sped, 
 Joyful, with his arms around her. 
 Bear her from the scene of strife, 
 While the burning tower is falling ; 
 Cameron swinging for his life, 
 Were a phantom too appalling ] 
 Lay her on her mother's bed, 
 Olory to Jehovah's name ; 
 Not a hair of all her head 
 Hath been injured by the flame. 
 Gently the Doctor tends her now, 
 Her nurse and maiden's are net far 
 And lo, the gem upon her brow 
 
 !• • 
 
60 
 
 Blasei like a burulng star. 
 
 Sti^^erin*; to tho chamber door, 
 A ha;^.!*ard, blackened man came on, 
 Hii hands with blood are running o er, 
 But the blood is all his own. 
 He saw the Doctor*s radiant face. 
 Re heard him say that all was right ; 
 Then b ick unto the smoulderinor place 
 He worked away till mornin:^*8 light. 
 With the Overseer and his men, 
 Whose efforts had been vain to save ; 
 They drench<>d the ruins a:?ai i and a?ain, 
 And searched for Demooti and the slave. 
 But Cameron in his inward soul, 
 With blan^hins^ cheek and watery eye, 
 Thought of the wild mysterious howl- 
 That was his noble dog*i good byt. 
 
 ^ pile of calcined bones they found, 
 Bat which was which they could not know, 
 Only the bones of the faithful hound 
 Shall ever be diiicerned below. 
 They frathered all with religions care, 
 That mij^ht to humanity assume, 
 And they gave the whole to Dementi's htifi 
 To be buried in bis father*s tomb. 
 There the wild rival brother's sleep— 
 This Ishmael fou]^ his father's grave. 
 Some bright eyes for Demonti weep, 
 
51 
 
 And Aileen wept her wayward otave. 
 Weep not for him — he had his boon- 
 More than he could have gained by years ; 
 He died for her^— alas, so soon— 
 Perchance his spirit saw her tears. 
 One name is on the marble tomb 
 That holds these poor remains below ; 
 Bat two shall come forth at the day of doom 
 To take their place of joy or woe ; 
 For deeds the flesh hath done on earth 
 The Almi<^hty will condemn or save, 
 None asUinsr of wron» or ri«?htful birth, 
 Who was the master or who the slave. 
 
 And Aileen wept old Hiclcory^s doom, 
 Who, heaven enlightened, came to save ; 
 In Washini^ton they built his tomb. 
 And she trained sweet flowers above his gravt | 
 A grey slab 'neath a spreading yew 
 Is carved with his simple ele?y :-~ 
 '* Self-sacrificing, brave and true, 
 " Let not his name forgotten be." 
 In their noble hall his image standi, 
 Scalptnred in marble pure and white, 
 His neck is wreathed by infant hands— 
 The great old dog is a chill's delight. 
 For the fair Aileen was Cameron's bride, 
 Whnt else in nature's course could be T 
 And th*) Senator's wife is by his ddt 
 Helping her coantry quietly. 
 
.'■ ■ iv 
 
 ■r,1#! 
 
 ^% -.. • 
 
 The Doctor dwells with theni i3| ^i^ wwwv^ 
 But he tendi the wouuded night Wnd daj*-» 
 He hath left his dear Virgini**! toil 
 To do for his country what he tB$f, 
 There are dusky forms that wah her will| 
 That would not leave though all were free } 
 Old Mary Anne is with her still. 
 And she nurses the baby on her bnee. 
 There have been wars and rumors of wars } 
 The old plan'tation is battle ground ; 
 But steady to the Stripes and Stars > 
 Have Cameron and his bride been found. 
 
 
 •»/*5j 
 
 Oh, she is beautiful — beautiful — 
 A Paradise she makes his home ; 
 And all the dreams that now she dreams 
 Are of the better days, days to come. 
 
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