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LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. 
 
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 Chap. -. Copyright No. 
 
 Shplf ^^3^^r 
 
 UNITED STATES OF AMERICA, 
 
HULDAH 
 
 A DAUGHTER OF THE REl^OLUTION 
 
 AND OTHER 
 
 Poems of American Patriotism 
 
 eVbr 
 
 EMMA ErBROWN 
 
 It 
 
 BOSTON., 
 LOTHROP PUBLIS^ir^r'GGM®^??^^ 
 
 I /^tVi /^dl897 
 
 
Copyright, 1897, 
 By Emma E. Brown. 
 
 ELECTROTYPED BY C. J. PETERS & SON, 
 BOSTON. 
 
TO 
 
 L. A. B. 
 
 OF THE 
 
 D. A. R. 
 
 THESE POEMS OF AMERICAN PATRIOTISM 
 ARE AFFECTIONATELY INSCRIBED 
 
 BY 
 
 E, E. B. 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 PAGE 
 
 HULDAH 9 
 
 Esther's Defence of the Fort . . . . 51 
 
 Madam Hancock's Reception 61 
 
 Dora 67 
 
HULDAH 
 
HULDAH 
 
 A DAUGHTER OF THE REVOLUTION 
 
 Low, subtle whispers of summer- 
 tide, 
 
 Though fringes of snow still clung 
 beside 
 
 The jagged rocks, and with half- 
 dazed look — 
 
 Like a child just waked — lay the 
 sleepy brook. 
 
 Perchance 'twas the sunshine's length- 
 ened ray, 
 
 The lowing cattle, the haze that lay 
 
 On the Milton hills, or that strange 
 spell 
 
 In the robin's note — I cannot 
 tell — 
 
 But Huldah leaving her spinning, 
 knew 
 
 And felt the restlessness as she 
 threw 
 
 9 • 
 
lO HULDJH 
 
 • 
 The bars of the lattice open. Cool 
 
 and sweet 
 
 As though from some pine wood's 
 deep retreat — 
 
 With a slow, coy tread, the fresh 
 winds crept 
 
 Through the sliding bars ; on the 
 hearth, wing-swept. 
 
 Falls the startled log in a moulder- 
 ing heap, 
 
 While with playful touch the breezes 
 keep 
 
 The dried bouquets on the mantel- 
 shelves 
 
 In trembling rustle ; like roguish elves 
 
 At hide and seek 'mongst the piles 
 of wool 
 
 Soft-carded, with sudden start they 
 pull 
 
 And twist the thread on the idle 
 wheel. 
 
 Tumble the curls of Huldah, and 
 steal 
 
 Across her cheeks to leave a flush, 
 
 Borrowed, it may be, from the blush 
 
 Of pink arbutus, anemones. 
 
 In their out-door work of mysteries. 
 
HVLDAH 1 1 
 
 Then, planning fresh mischief, the 
 
 rude winds stray 
 To the pantry where ('tis Saturday), 
 The brown bread moulding with busy 
 
 hands, 
 By her kneading-trough the mother 
 
 stands ; 
 Another gust — away flies her cap ! 
 And tabby starts from a half-feigned 
 
 nap 
 When fragrant mints from the old 
 
 cross-beam 
 Drop into the pan of golden cream ! 
 
 A merry laughing, while swift feet 
 run 
 
 To close the bars ere more harm is 
 done. 
 
 And yet by the lattice, a long time 
 still 
 
 The young girl lingers, as young 
 girls will 
 
 When the breath of Spring thrills 
 heart and brain 
 
 With a rapture — half akin to pain ! 
 
 But green are the buds on the wil- 
 lows* bough. 
 
12 HULDAH 
 
 And fragrant the sod where ox and 
 
 plough 
 The father, in home-spun suit of 
 
 blue, 
 Is guiding the broad, deep furrows 
 
 through. 
 
 A sudden rumble — a quick, bright 
 
 flash 
 In the April skies ! But, closing 
 
 the sash. 
 Our little Huldah with happy smile 
 Has turned away, and merrily while 
 Her wheel is spinning, she sings a 
 
 strain 
 That seems of her own glad thoughts, 
 
 the refrain : 
 
 A sunlit sky and a sunlit earth — 
 
 Blue hills and a bluer river ^ — 
 
 Cool forest depths where the springs 
 
 have birth ^ 
 Green fields where the grasses quiver 1 
 
 A fair bright future — without and 
 
 within — 
 Glad Hope to my heart is bringing^ 
 
HULDAH 13 
 
 For a golden thread do the grim Fates 
 spin 
 
 When they hear — a red-breast sing- 
 ing ! 
 
 Another morning — just two hours 
 old — 
 
 A Sunday morning, clear and cold. 
 
 Without, the crest of a waning moon 
 
 Is slipping from brow of the Night; 
 for, soon. 
 
 Swift heralds of Dawn the east will 
 rend 
 
 And electric flash through the whole 
 land send ! 
 
 Chill breezes from marsh and low- 
 lands creep. 
 
 Rustling the trees where dead leaves 
 sleep ; 
 
 And, now and then, through the 
 woods is heard 
 
 The wandering note of some shiver- 
 ing bird. 
 
 In the little farm-house all is still 
 Save the tick of the clock, the shrill 
 
14 HULDAH 
 
 Sharp chirp of cricket, or tramp of mice 
 'Twixt the loosened laths. 
 
 Hark! twice — ay, thrice! 
 And again it comes ! Good God ! 
 
 can it mean — 
 Nay — hush ! there's a cry the swift 
 
 footsteps between, — 
 An echoing tread on the bridge be- 
 low, — 
 Another call ! — and, like startled doe, 
 Half doubting still if she wakes or 
 
 sleeps 
 The little Huldah, a-tremble, creeps 
 Down the creaking stair-case, peers 
 
 without 
 The great hall door, and catching the 
 
 shout 
 Of the flying horseman, one dread 
 
 word, 
 " The British I " through all the house 
 
 is heard. 
 Till the old oak rafters themselves 
 
 are stirred ! 
 
 To the upper loft the father springs 
 And forth from its hiding-place he 
 brings 
 
HULDAH 15 
 
 The heavy musket that he bore 
 At Frontenac, long years before. 
 " The red-coats — ha ! they shall not 
 
 say 
 With bullets we know but children's 
 
 play ! " 
 And with soldier-pride he soothes 
 
 the fears 
 Of wife and of daughter, kisses the 
 
 tears 
 Away from Huldah's cheeks, and 
 
 then 
 Runs down to the green where the 
 
 "minute men" 
 Their quiet hamlet homes to save 
 Have gathered in phalanx stanch and 
 
 brave. 
 
 Ah — well-a-day ! — you all have 
 heard 
 
 That Sabbath's story, — word for 
 word — 
 
 How nobly they fought at Lexing- 
 ton, — 
 
 The short, sharp conflict farther on, — 
 
 The fierce bush fighting — then the 
 shout 
 
1 6 HULDAH 
 
 Of victory; and tfie British rout, 
 As with broken ranks they turned 
 
 and fled — 
 The proud Lord Percy at their head ! 
 Yet what is our knowledge — thine 
 
 or mine — 
 Of that one day — save the bare out- 
 line ! 
 In Huldah's home — why! the long 
 
 hours crept 
 As if the very pendulum slept. 
 The cries of alarm, the gathering feet 
 Soon died away ; but the quiet street, 
 The dead, dull silence everywhere. 
 Seemed harder than anything else to 
 
 bear ! 
 For man may fight, but woman must 
 
 wait, — 
 And which — think you — is the 
 
 easier fate ? 
 
 There were distant shots, and now 
 
 and then 
 The smell and the smoke of powder, 
 
 when 
 With chilling breath, and a wailing 
 
 sound 
 
HULDJH 17 
 
 The fickle winds to the east veered 
 
 round ; 
 Snug, sheltered, and safe from rude 
 
 alarm 
 In its quiet nook, stood the hillside 
 
 farm. 
 Yet the mother and Huldah felt a 
 
 chill 
 As they looked and listened — -a sud- 
 den thrill 
 Of quick, sharp pain — for dearer 
 
 far 
 Than our own poor lives, our loved 
 
 ones are ! 
 And our very safety — when theirs, 
 
 we know. 
 In peril must be — is an added woe ! 
 
 On the upper shelf, at close of day. 
 Still folded the Sunday garments lay ; 
 The catechism's dreaded task 
 The mother had quite forgotten to 
 
 ask. 
 And now the last red shaft in the 
 
 west 
 Had ended the hours of sacred rest 
 For the day was reckoned (as it begun 
 
1 8 HULDAH 
 
 • 
 In the good old times) from sun to 
 
 sun ! 
 
 And laying aside the Holy Book 
 
 Her half-knitted stocking the mother 
 took, 
 
 While little Huldah began to reel 
 
 Fresh skeins of yarn from her spin- 
 ning-wheel ; 
 
 But dull and listless her fingers ply 
 
 The wonted stint, though she stands 
 close by 
 
 The lattice window where field and 
 brook 
 
 And bud and bough have the self- 
 same look 
 
 As yester-morn — yet the fairest 
 scene 
 
 Strange shadows may catch from — 
 a day between ! 
 
 ^ weeping sky and a mourning earthy — 
 
 Bleak hills and a bleaker river ^ — 
 T)ark forest wilds where the storms 
 have birth, — 
 Brown fields where the dead leaves 
 shiver ; 
 
HULDAH 19 
 
 A dim^ gray future — within and with- 
 out — 
 Dread Fear to my heart is bringing^ 
 For in the chill dusk, when truth is a 
 doubt, 
 I heard — a whip-poor-will singing ! 
 
 With weight of blossom — with fruit- 
 age now, 
 Droops the trailing vine and the 
 
 loaded bough, — 
 Through the gray old woods the 
 
 flowers have gone 
 In long procession, one by one; 
 The trembling snow-drop's pallid 
 
 face 
 Had hardly smiled ere it yielded 
 
 place 
 To violets, to twin-flower bells. 
 And the sweet claytonia that dwells 
 A hermit within its mossy nook ; 
 And now, like lighted torch by the 
 
 brook. 
 Flames the cardinal-flower, while 
 
 golden rod 
 And the asters* deep rich purple, nod 
 
20 HULDJH 
 
 In the meadows brown, as if the sun 
 And shadow were melted into one ! 
 
 And all this time the tide of war 
 Whose sudden rise old Middlesex 
 
 saw, 
 That April morning — as in a 
 
 dream — 
 Has ebbed and flowed in one vast 
 
 stream 
 Throughout the land ; their white 
 
 and red 
 The bright June roses scarce had shed. 
 When on Charlestown's height the 
 
 battle came 
 That gave to one hill a world-wide 
 
 fame ! 
 Nor do Southern homes their heroes 
 
 lack ; 
 For Patrick Henry echoes back 
 The same determined will that fired 
 Our bold Green Mountain boys — 
 
 inspired 
 Young Ethan Allen, when the " keys 
 Of Canada " he vowed to seize. 
 And at Ticonderoga show 
 How a true soldier meets the foe ! 
 
\ 
 
 HULDAH 21 
 
 With smaller file, but fiercer heart — 
 (It may be that the touch, the smart 
 Of rifle-balls — like some wines make 
 Fresh thirst, that needs fresh draughts 
 
 to slake !) 
 Long weeks ago the " minute-men " 
 To Lexington returning, when 
 Their service, for the time, was 
 
 through, — 
 With eager, longing eyes the few 
 Thin ranks were scanned by one and 
 
 all 
 Whose homes had heard that " morn- 
 ing call." 
 And while, impatient, to the gate 
 Our little Huldah runs to wait. 
 The careful mother — ere it burn — 
 Her smoking " fire-cake '* stops to 
 
 turn, 
 And lay upon the fresh-scoured deal, 
 Where waits the simple evening meal, 
 An extra spoon, knife, fork and 
 
 plate 
 For " father," for the hour is late. 
 And hungry, faint, she fears that 
 
 he 
 After the hard day*s march will be. 
 
22 HULDJH 
 
 In long-drawn line'the troops pass on, 
 Till now the scattered files have gone 
 Far down the road ; and all alone, 
 With altered step, with altered tone. 
 Poor Huldah turns, to meet half-way 
 The mother's sudden, sad dismay — 
 " And yet 'tis likely we may find 
 He tarried, just a while, behind — 
 Or, mayhap, joined the troops that 
 
 lay 
 Around old Boston, for they said 
 With Washington now at their head 
 The ' Continentals ' meant, ere long. 
 To enter in, with shout and song ! " 
 
 So Huldah and the mother try 
 To cheer each other — drawing nigh 
 The dying embers, as they wait 
 To hear the footstep at the gate. 
 And still untouched the supper 
 
 stands 
 While steadily the old clock's hands 
 Are travelling on from hour to hour 
 As if they held some subtle power. 
 And knew our hopes, fears, life and 
 
 death 
 The while they number every breath ! 
 
HULDAH 23 
 
 With morning came fresh hope, fresh 
 
 plan — 
 By questioning each " minute-man " 
 The truth, of course, would soon be 
 
 shown. 
 And it were better all were known — 
 The very worst — than longer bear 
 This burden of suspense and care. 
 What did they learn ? Well, one 
 
 man said 
 That he had seen him far ahead 
 Of rank and file that morning when 
 The call had come for " minute- 
 men"; 
 Another said, " He fought right 
 
 well — 
 A very hero — till he fell." 
 
 " Fell ? " Huldah's lips grew white 
 
 with fear. 
 The mother gasped, " We did not 
 
 hear — 
 We did not know " — " Nay ! don't 
 
 mistake," 
 The blunt lips added, " lines must 
 
 break 
 In fight, you know ; we fall, we rise, 
 
24 HULDAH 
 
 • 
 And I am sure these very eyes 
 
 Saw the brave man again, ere long 
 
 Right in the thickest of the throng ! " 
 
 " Yes ! Up and fighting ! " said a 
 
 third, 
 "He sprang as lightly as a bird 
 From that first wound." But then 
 
 — what then ? 
 Well, really it was doubtful when 
 The fierce bush-fighting came, to tell 
 What happened — some ran on — 
 
 some fell — 
 And some had tarried to defend 
 The broken columns at the end ; 
 While others hid in ambush, more, 
 However, had pressed on before 
 To hasten the retreat ; blockade 
 The city — they themselves had 
 
 stayed 
 Most willingly, but calls at home 
 So urgent grew that they had come 
 To be " at minute's warning " still 
 All ready — with a right good will ! 
 
 With aching heart, word after word. 
 As in a dream, the mother heard ; 
 And Huldah, as she listened, grew — 
 
HULDAH 25 
 
 (Such sudden change our grief and 
 
 pain 
 Will sometimes work — like summer 
 
 rain) 
 A woman, strong to bear, to do ! 
 
 Amethyst skies, and chrysoprase hills. 
 Where the lengthening sunbeam creepeth. 
 Murmur of South winds, babble of 
 
 rills, 
 Whistling of orioles, bob-o-link trills, 
 Tet soundly the little bud sleepeth. 
 
 Dull, leaden skies where the heavy 
 
 clouds lower. 
 Hills the glad sunshine for saketh. 
 Raw, piercing winds and a chill, 
 
 drenching shower. 
 Sobbing of pines where the bleating 
 
 herds cower, 
 Tet, look you I the little bud waketh I 
 
 O dreary winter! Just outside 
 The city still, the troops abide ; 
 
26 HULDJH 
 
 For though, weeks since, the frozen 
 
 bay 
 Temptations offered to essay 
 The promised, long-deferred attack. 
 Yet wise war councils held them back 
 A little longer still, till men. 
 Stores, ammunition came, and then 
 More confident the raid would be, 
 And crowned with surer victory ; 
 So reasoned Washington, and so 
 The patriots resolved to do. 
 
 Meanwhile, young Burr and Arnold 
 
 toil 
 Through pathless wilds of Maine, to 
 
 spoil 
 Quebec, and there unite, at length. 
 To give the New York troops fresh 
 
 strength. 
 And midst discouragements untold, 
 Montgomery, with ardor bold, 
 Showed how a strong will could 
 
 prevail 
 The " Heights of Abraham " to scale. 
 
 On leaden wings the months crept 
 on ; 
 
HULDAH 27 
 
 The cold white drifts were almost 
 
 gone, 
 And through the lattice bars once 
 
 more 
 Came hints of summer days in store. 
 One hope, and only one, remained : 
 If entrance should, at last, be gained 
 Within the city — who could tell ? 
 The father might be there — 'tis well 
 To hope, and Huldah tries to cheer 
 The mother, and allay her fear. 
 The while her busy fingers ply 
 Their daily tasks, and bravely try 
 By ready work of ready hand 
 To help the patriotic band. 
 
 A single night — and lo ! the sun 
 Next morning showed more labor 
 
 done 
 " Than my vast army, I believe. 
 In a whole month's time could 
 
 achieve ! " 
 The British general exclaimed — 
 Of his own laggard troops ashamed. 
 Eleven days from that March night, 
 And Boston gloried in the sight 
 Of streets that knew no more the tread 
 
28 HULDAH 
 
 Of Tory or the royal red ! 
 
 And while the British fleet still lay 
 
 At anchor, just outside the bay, 
 
 A new, strange banner met their 
 
 eyes 
 Of thirteen stripes against the skies ! 
 
 From our own grief and misery 
 Springs the sweet balm of sympathy ; 
 And burdened souls, because they 
 
 know 
 Life's bitterness, are quick to show 
 That Christian charity which is 
 So rare in such a world as this ! 
 And when the thought had come, 
 
 that he — 
 The lost one — 'mongst the sick 
 
 might be. 
 Though never word, trace, sight or 
 
 sound 
 Of their own loved one could be 
 
 found. 
 Yet hearing there the piteous cries 
 Of one poor sufl^erer, who lies 
 Just at Death's door — what do they 
 
 care 
 Though British uniform he wear? 
 
HULDAH 29 
 
 With soothing words, with gentle 
 
 touch 
 That to the sick one means so much, 
 The mother's tender, loving hand 
 His burning cheeks and forehead 
 
 fanned ; 
 Brought dainty bits from off her 
 
 shelf- 
 Delicious comfits she herself 
 From luscious fruits prepared as no 
 One else (the father said) could do ! 
 And when the soldier, half awake, 
 (He came from Devonshire, it seemed. 
 And of his English home had 
 
 dreamed) 
 From long delirium cried, " Oh ! 
 
 take 
 Me quick away ! I long to see 
 The sparkling brook, the old oak 
 
 tree. 
 The fresh green fields, the woods, 
 
 the pond. 
 And those blue mountains just be- 
 yond ! " — 
 The mother said, " Why ! let him 
 
 come 
 To us — we have a country home. 
 
30 HULDJH 
 
 And room to spire — the change 
 
 might do 
 More for him than the doctors 
 
 knew ! " 
 
 And so it happened, one bright day 
 Within their Httle guest-room, lay 
 A British soldier ! And the news 
 A wondrous zeal and fire infuse ; 
 But when the noble women hear 
 The innuendoes, taunt and jeer — 
 The epithets of " Tory," " Spy," — 
 To one and all they make reply, 
 " 'Tis surely but a simple deed 
 Of charity, as, in his need. 
 We would some pitying heart and 
 
 true 
 For our beloved one might do ! " 
 
 / had a message for my love. 
 Full tender^ deep, and true; 
 
 And yet J O waiting, white-winged dove 
 I could not give it you I 
 
 A fresh breeze kissed my cheek, — 
 // passed unto the South — 
 
HULDAH 31 
 
 The Land that all my longings seek — 
 Tet sealed was my mouth. 
 
 The good ship touched the shore^ 
 
 She sailed far out of ken. 
 And yet no messages she bore. 
 
 No words of tongue or pen. 
 
 Just then, across my path 
 
 A sudden shadow came. 
 One of God'' s poor, who hath 
 
 The blessing, " in His name,'' 
 
 One for whom Jesu died 
 
 Had fallen by the road ; 
 I could not turn aside — 
 
 / gave him raiment, food. 
 
 And words of friendly cheer — 
 JVho could do less than this 
 
 For one, a fellow man, whose tear, 
 Whose smile reflecteth his ? 
 
 Tet suddenly there shone 
 
 The light of a new day ; 
 The message had passed on 
 
 In God's own blessed way! 
 
32 HULDJH 
 
 • 
 For Love is still the same — 
 
 Whate 'er we dream or think - 
 
 Though bound to one fond name. 
 
 Perchance, yet many a link 
 
 'The magic chain must make. 
 Ere heart can answer heart 
 
 In perfect concord, and thus take 
 Of heaven 's own joy a part I 
 
 Now at the North — now at the 
 
 South — 
 The demon War, with half-closed 
 
 mouth. 
 Had muttered challenges all through 
 The Spring ; and many knew 
 The British Parliament had vowed 
 " This rebel handful " should be 
 
 cowed 
 At once, if force of arms and men 
 Could bring obedience back again. 
 But when Sir Peter^s boasted strength 
 Before old Moultrie, quailed, at 
 
 length ; 
 And Clinton's bold attempts were 
 
 foiled 
 
HULDAH 23 
 
 At Charleston, till his ships were 
 
 spoiled 
 Of colors, ammunition, stores — 
 Grave apprehensions filled the corps 
 Of" British regulars " ; and now 
 Though troops had come from Ad- 
 miral Howe, 
 And though the feeble patriot band 
 Was suffering loss, on sea, on land — 
 Behold ! a tremor shakes the throne 
 Of monarchs — wheresoever known, 
 As Declaration — loud and clear — 
 Of Independence, greets the ear ! 
 And a new Nation takes her stand 
 United — heart and soul and hand. 
 A race full-grown, full-armed, in- 
 deed — 
 As in old classic lore we read 
 How the prolific brain of Zeus 
 A perfect Pallas could produce ; 
 And how a legion on the plain 
 Of Thebes arose, from dragon slain ! 
 
 But ah ! not yet may conflict cease — 
 Since armor is for war, not peace — 
 And Liberty so dear, so rare. 
 The precious seal of blood must bear. 
 
34 HULDAH 
 
 Now at Long Inland — at White 
 
 Plains — 
 With many losses, many gains, 
 The contest rages fierce and strong, 
 While shouts of victory belong, 
 Now to the royal flag, and now 
 To bars and stars, whose colors show 
 The heavens above, the stripes below ! 
 
 With eager ear that autumn day. 
 The British soldier as he lay 
 Half-sleeping, half-awake, had heard 
 The neighbors when they brought 
 
 the word 
 To Huldah — tarrying the while 
 To catch the sunshine of her smile. 
 
 A crow's sharp " caw," and plaintive 
 
 note 
 Of "pewee" through the still air float. 
 And from the purpling grapes, a 
 
 breath 
 (Like that the sweet day-lily hath) 
 Comes through the open sash ; and 
 
 now 
 A red leaf from the maple bough 
 Has dropped upon the sill ; a bee 
 
HULDJH 35 
 
 All honey-laden, and a free 
 Bright butterfly flit in and out ; 
 And from the orchard comes the 
 
 shout 
 Of children as they shake the loaded 
 
 tree. 
 
 O rich, ingathering time ! The earth 
 In springtide, to maintain the birth 
 Of myriad buds, perforce must drain 
 The air of stimulus ; and brain. 
 Breath, muscle, feel in turn the need 
 Of life absorbed by germ and seed. 
 But autumn comes with garnered 
 
 store, — 
 The teeming earth o'erflows once 
 
 more, — 
 And clasping her full hand we take 
 The quick, magnetic thrills that make 
 It bliss to breathe — ay! ecstasy 
 As in our childhood — just to be ! 
 
 And so that bright October day 
 While listlessly the sick man lay 
 And let his thoughts in quiet rhythm 
 Blend with the scene — a sudden 
 chrism 
 
^6 HULDJH ' 
 
 Seemed falling on him as the dew. 
 And every nerve, vein, fibre, knew 
 The tide had turned — the open door 
 Of life, not death, was his once more. 
 He glanced about him, raised his head. 
 And as he caught th^ busy tread 
 Of feet below, and then the song 
 Of Huldah at her work, a throng 
 Of happy thoughts filled heart and 
 
 brain 
 And love of life crept back again. 
 
 SONG 
 
 Only a brave old maple ^ 
 
 Shorn of its scarlet and gold. 
 
 And traced on the scroll of sunset 
 As a hand-writing black and bold, 
 
 A low^ wailing wind frets the branches ; 
 The dead leaves start up in surprise^ 
 Till at length in the hush of the gloaming 
 The dryad 's sad monody dies. 
 
 O desolate tree in the meadow. 
 With pleading hands stretched to the 
 sky 
 
HVLDAH 37 
 
 Do you know the glad hopes of a spring- 
 tide 
 Asleep in your folded arms lie ? 
 
 And that never a breath of the Storm 
 
 King, 
 And never a drift of the snow. 
 Can rifle the bud from its casket 
 Or loose the firm anchor below? 
 
 ^ Bide patiently, then, the bleak winter. 
 And change the sad wail to a song ; 
 Bear up, for the robins and bluebirds 
 And South winds are coming, ere long I 
 
 An empty room ! what could it mean? 
 Nay ! could it be that under screen 
 Of night, and, mayhap, from the 
 
 dread, 
 Of prison bars, that he had fled — 
 The British soldier ? It is true 
 These convalescent weeks, they knew 
 How restlessly he paced the floor, 
 But then, they thought it nothing 
 
 more 
 Than, in impatience, anyone 
 
38 HULDAH 
 
 • 
 Recovering slowly might have done. 
 
 Yet here upon the table lay 
 
 His watch and purse — a note to say 
 
 This strange departure he could 
 
 not 
 As yet, explain to any, but 
 Though words — deeds seemed in 
 
 truth too rude 
 To show his fervent gratitude — 
 A debt to their sweet charity 
 The life they saved henceforth should 
 
 be! 
 
 Silent and soft and white and slow — 
 On hill, stream, meadow — falls the 
 
 snow. 
 A hush without, a hush within, 
 A cold drear world where all has 
 
 been 
 So full of color, warmth, and glow ; 
 And Huldah — looking, listening — 
 
 feels 
 A new strange loneliness that steals 
 The dimpling smile, the song half- 
 way — 
 (As the bleak north winds chide and 
 stay 
 
HULDJH 39 
 
 With chilling breath and frowning 
 
 look 
 The rippling laughter of the brook !) 
 
 And still with many a turn and phase 
 The fierce war spirit stirs and sways 
 The land that waits while Freedom's 
 
 breath 
 Seems wavering 'twixt life and death. 
 The battles on the Jersey shore 
 And, now and then, the cannon's roar 
 From fleet and fort still keep alive 
 The patriot's hope, while bravely 
 
 strive 
 The poor starved troops with Wash- 
 ington — 
 A host himself! — to spur them on. 
 
 Old Valley Forge — the story yet 
 Comes with fresh thrill, and eyes are 
 
 wet 
 With tears unbid — what time we 
 
 read 
 Of bitter suffering, bitter need, 
 All borne so uncomplainingly 
 By those whose eyes might never see 
 The boon they bought us — Liberty ! 
 
40 HULDAH 
 
 • 
 'Midst disappointment, ills untold — 
 
 Tories at home, and traitors bold. 
 
 With massacre at Wyoming 
 
 An added horror yet to bring ! 
 
 Still, Burgoyne's late surrender fanned 
 
 To flame again hope's dying brand, 
 
 A flame that bright and brighter grew 
 
 When in Manhattan's harbor lay 
 
 At anchor, one glad summer day. 
 
 With pennons red and white and blue. 
 
 The long-expected, brave French fleet. 
 
 And Count D'Estaing commanding it. 
 
 O glad bright morning on the bay ! 
 O sad, white dawning, as one ray — 
 One only — pierced the narrow slip 
 Of window, in the prison-ship — 
 The " Jersey " — worst of all through- 
 out 
 The waters of the Wallabout ! 
 Stifled and starved the prisoners lie 
 A wailing mass of misery. 
 And living suff^erers envy those i 
 
 Whose eyes are first in death to close. 
 O righteous Heaven ! one day will 
 
 show 
 Full justice to all men, we know ; 
 
HULDAH 41 
 
 But while the good still suffer wrong, 
 And weak hands writhe beneath the 
 
 strong, 
 The cry must rise, "How long — 
 
 how long ! " 
 
 Among the prisoners, one man 
 Creeps to the light, and dim eyes 
 
 scan 
 With wistful look the harbor and 
 The long, low line of sea-girt land ; 
 How strange the bright blue water 
 
 seems ! — 
 How cheerily the sunlight gleams 
 On snow-white sail, on sandy shore. 
 And fresh green turf where never- 
 more 
 His feet may tread — and though 
 
 the trace 
 Of suffering has aged his face. 
 It is — ah yes ! we know it now. 
 The kindling eye, the thoughtful 
 
 brow 
 That Huldah kissed the morning 
 
 when 
 The call had come for " minute- 
 men." 
 
42 HULDAH 
 
 Alas ! how dim, how far away 
 It seems — that one short April day 
 When, hand to hand, he fought until 
 There came the sense of something 
 
 chill 
 On hand and foot — a blank — and 
 
 then 
 The British ambulances when 
 He woke and heard the questioning 
 
 jeer, 
 " Why ! how came such a rebel here ? " 
 " We found him wounded in the road 
 And took him, since the 'red coat' 
 
 showed 
 Our own, we thought — but, 'buff 
 
 and blue' 
 A sturdier rebel never knew!" 
 
 "Ah well ! they tried in vain to make 
 Me compromise, or base oath take ! 
 And when they could not as a spy 
 Make use of me, they thought to try 
 Fresh cruelties and quite subdue 
 Me — but they little knew 
 The patriotic blood that flowed 
 Within my throbbing veins, and 
 showed 
 
HULDAH 43 
 
 The father, grandsire, who in strife 
 Of other days had yielded hfe 
 With hero spirit ! — Well — ah well ! 
 They did their best, but could not 
 
 quell 
 My rebel ardor — years of pain, 
 Imprisonment — and what the gain? 
 To fall were glorious on the field. 
 But this is pitiful — to yield 
 One's life by slow degrees, and know 
 That it is naught to friend or foe 1 
 And yet if I could only see 
 The dear home faces, willingly 
 With my poor comrades they might 
 
 lay 
 Me down to rest — this very day 1 " 
 So thought the prisoner as he heard, 
 " Bring out your dead ! " the morn- 
 ing word. 
 
 A hand upon the outer latch — 
 
 A closer crowding through the 
 
 hatch — 
 Who was it? Some one else to 
 
 share 
 Their woe? But no ! — the tall 
 form there — 
 
44 HULDAH 
 
 " Good God ! it is the very face 
 I fought with in that narrow place 
 Beside the road ! " and then he 
 
 turned 
 To find conviction — all — con- 
 firmed. 
 As pressing through the wailing 
 
 crowd 
 The British soldier spoke aloud 
 His name, and grasping then his 
 
 hand. 
 Without a greeting, said : " We 
 
 stand — 
 Though in a very different place — 
 Once more, brave foe, face close to 
 
 face ! 
 We fought right well that April day. 
 But fiercest enemies, they say. 
 Make firmest friends — so may it be 
 Henceforward, Sir, with you and me ! 
 For life itself, and far above 
 This breath of ours, the fire of 
 
 love ! — 
 For all the sweetness of your home 
 A debtor to you I have come ! 
 Yet never words of mine can tell 
 What bitter, bitter sorrow fell 
 
HULDAH 45 
 
 That day when thinking of the face 
 
 I covered in that dreary place 
 
 With my own cloak, the knowledge 
 came — 
 
 (It may have been the likeness there 
 
 In your sweet Huldah's brow and 
 hair) 
 
 My foe — their loved one — 'tis the 
 same ! 
 
 Long months since then, now here, 
 now there, 
 
 IVe sought " the lost one " every- 
 where. 
 
 For signed, you see, by our good 
 king. 
 
 Your pardon and release I bring ! " 
 
 Five times the winter snows had lain 
 On field and river, upland, plain; 
 Now here, now there, the tide of war 
 North, South, East, West, alternate 
 
 saw. 
 But hearts grew strong when helping 
 
 hands 
 Were stretched from far-off foreign 
 
 strands. 
 
46 HULDAH 
 
 Pulaski, noble Ha Fayette, 
 And Kosciusko — even yet 
 Upon their generous deeds we dwell 
 And to our eager children tell. 
 
 Success, defeat — it was the same 
 Old tale — with just a change of 
 
 name. 
 Until, one bright October morn 
 An unexpected joy was born ; 
 And to its depths each patriot soul 
 Is stirred, while swift the tidings roll, 
 " Cornwallis has surrendered ! Ring 
 The bells in every town, and bring 
 The good news into every home — 
 To you and yours sweet Peace has 
 
 come I 
 
 And, ere the echoes die away. 
 Let us one short, swift moment stray 
 To Middlesex where field and brook — 
 The very farm yard — have a look 
 As if some sudden joy had come 
 To nestle in the hill-side home. 
 A sudden gust of wind that steals 
 The curtain from its place reveals. 
 Within the little " keeping room," 
 
HULDAH 47 
 
 (Most often doomed to cold and 
 
 gloom ! ) 
 A lily here, a rosebud there, 
 Arranged with dainty thought and 
 
 care, 
 And in their Sunday garments clad, 
 The merry lass, the bashful lad. 
 The dame with cap-box in her hand. 
 Come up the path, and now they 
 
 stand 
 In quiet groups within; while two, 
 (A manly form with English face, 
 A girlish figure full of grace. 
 Yet freedom too, as if she knew 
 Her birthright!) joining hands re- 
 peat 
 The promises, the pledges sweet — 
 " To love, to cherish — heart for 
 
 heart — 
 In sickness, health — till Death us 
 part ! " 
 
 Up from the meadows , down from the 
 
 hills^ 
 Snatched by the breezes, caught by the 
 
 rills — 
 Hark I to the wonderful chorus ! 
 
48' HVLDAH 
 
 Warfare has ended in white truce of 
 
 peace, 
 yealousies^ hatred^ rivalries cease 
 When Love her elixir breathes o'er 
 us ! 
 
 And still as the years with their 
 changes roll by^ 
 
 Breaking each barrier — strengthening 
 each ticy 
 Union grows stronger and stronger ; 
 
 Nation to nation is drawing more 
 nigh — 
 
 And since of one language^ aim^ an- 
 cestry^ — why 
 Should we cherish old enmities longer? 
 
ESTHER'S DEFENCE 
 OF THE FORT 
 
ESTHER'S DEFENCE OF 
 THE FORT 
 
 A STORY OF ONE OF NEW HAMPSHIRE'S 
 DAUGHTERS 
 
 Since those far-off days when Mason 
 
 came — 
 And Fernando Gorges of world-wide 
 
 fame — 
 To found on Piscataqua's rockbound 
 
 shore 
 A " Royal Province *' (not only in 
 
 name !) 
 With its sure, safe harbor and boun- 
 teous store 
 Of nature's wealth in fish and game, — 
 New Hampshire's Daughters, stanch 
 
 and strong. 
 Have left their record in story and 
 
 song. 
 
 51 
 
52 ESTHER'S DEFENCE 
 
 And those valiant deeds of the days 
 
 of old — 
 We never tire to hear them told, 
 When dangers threatened on every 
 
 hand 
 The lives and homes of that little 
 
 band 
 Of pioneers ! brave, patient, strong — 
 Unfading laurels to those belong 
 Who pushed their way through the 
 
 pathless wood, 
 Undaunted in faith and fortitude, 
 Till among the Granite Hills at 
 
 length 
 Rose their noble State in beauty and 
 
 strength ! 
 And, helping always — a tireless 
 
 band ! — 
 Through the bye-gone years we see 
 
 them stand — 
 New Hampshire's Daughters, stanch 
 
 and strong, 
 Leaving their record in story and 
 
 song. 
 
 Brave Hannah Dustin ! — a shudder 
 and chill 
 
OF THE FORI' ^^ 
 
 Run through our frames and our 
 
 eyeHds fill 
 As we read of her capture — the 
 
 dreadful fate 
 That awaited herself and her child 
 
 — the hate 
 Of the cruel, treacherous Indian 
 
 band 
 That at length lay slain by her own 
 
 right hand. 
 
 There was Mary NefF — there was 
 
 Molly Stark — 
 And many another of shining mark, 
 But among the names that are 
 
 handed down 
 From sire to son with their wide 
 
 renown, 
 Among the many I think of one 
 Who faced the enemy all alone ! 
 A frail and slender woman, they said. 
 Was this Esther Jones with her clear, 
 
 wise head. 
 But she always knew what was best 
 
 to do — 
 That rare, fine gift bestowed on the 
 
 few. 
 
54 ESTHER'S DEFENCE 
 
 And to Esther* it was, that every 
 
 man 
 In the garrison came for the wisest 
 
 plan 
 Of guiding the colony day by day 
 And keeping the savage tribes at 
 
 bay — 
 For whatever she said they always 
 
 knew 
 Was the best and the safest thing 
 
 to do. 
 
 The planting, one spring, had been 
 
 long delayed 
 Because of a treacherous Indian 
 
 raid. 
 And when, at last, it could safely be 
 
 done 
 If they worked together till set of 
 
 the sun. 
 She bade all go and leave her on 
 
 guard 
 In the garrison fort, well bolted and 
 
 barred. 
 
 So, with loaded guns they had gone 
 away — 
 
OF THE FORT 55 
 
 Man, woman, and child from the 
 
 fort that day, — 
 And Esther alone in the garrison 
 
 stood, 
 Surrounded each side by the dense 
 
 pine wood ; 
 The nearest house was a mile away 
 And the savage tribes in ambush 
 
 lay 
 Near the forest path, but she knew 
 
 no fear — 
 This dauntless Esther who waited 
 
 here. 
 
 The long, long day was nearing its 
 
 close 
 When, suddenly, out on the still air 
 
 rose 
 A wild war-whoop ! — 
 
 Poor Esther knows 
 The wily foe at length have guessed 
 How weak is the fort ! She must 
 
 do her best — 
 She must rally all her wits to the 
 
 front 
 For 'tis she alone who must bear the 
 
 brunt 
 
56 ESTHER'S DEFENCE 
 
 Of this savage* horde. They are 
 
 coming fast 
 A.nd she knows each moment may 
 
 be her last ! 
 
 But, undismayed, she challenges all 
 The murderous host, and her figure 
 
 tall 
 Arrayed in her husband^s coat and 
 
 hat 
 Looks now from this loop-hole, now 
 
 from that. 
 While with gun in hand they can 
 
 hear her call 
 To Peter, to John, to Henry, to 
 
 Paul, 
 And a host of others, as if there 
 
 stood 
 Beside her a stalwart brotherhood 
 Of valiant warriors ! 
 
 With puzzled mien 
 The Indians pause — and while they 
 
 wait 
 As if hypnotized there by the gate 
 A troop of well-armed men is seen 
 Hemming them in on every side 
 
OF THE FORT 57 
 
 While a panic seizes them far and 
 
 wide. 
 The planting was over ere set of the 
 
 sun 
 And an easy victory now is won ! 
 
 Brave Esther Jones ! Till the day 
 
 was done 
 Alone she had held the fort — among 
 New Hampshire's Daughters, stanch 
 
 and strong, 
 Let her name be known in story and 
 
 song! 
 
MADAM HANCOCK'S 
 RECEPTION 
 
MADAM HANCOCK'S 
 RECEPTION 
 
 A HUNDRED years and more ago — 
 When haughty England was our 
 
 foe — 
 In Boston harbor one bright day, 
 The brave French fleet at anchor lay. 
 
 And timely aid they gave us then — 
 The Count d*Estaing and all his 
 
 men; 
 When hope from every heart had 
 
 fled 
 And victories crowned the royal red. 
 
 " Now, ere to France they sail away," 
 Said Hancock to his wife that day, 
 " For these good friends, so tried 
 
 and true 
 In time of need — what can we do?" 
 6i 
 
62 MADAM HANCOCK'S 
 
 Fair Dorothy with courtesy 
 And old-time hospitality, 
 Agreed at once to do her part 
 With ready hand and loyal heart : — 
 
 "For Count d'Estaing's brave staff," 
 
 she said, 
 " A fine French breakfast I will 
 
 spread ; 
 A hearty welcome, right good cheer 
 Our generous allies shall find here ! " 
 
 For thirty guests her board was laid 
 When suddenly, she saw — dis- 
 mayed — 
 The officers of all the fleet — 
 Eight-score and more, come down 
 the street ! 
 
 But with rare tact she swiftly threw 
 Her doors wide open, and none 
 
 knew 
 Of all that crowd of gallant men 
 The lady's consternation when 
 She wondered how her larder's store 
 For thirty guests could feed eight- 
 score ! 
 
RECEPTION Gl, 
 
 Then came a sudden happy thought 
 As through the open door she caught 
 A glimpse of green where, In those 
 
 days, 
 The neighbors' cows were wont to 
 
 graze 
 On Boston Common ; " Milk them 
 
 all ! " 
 (She bade her servants) " and then 
 
 call 
 At every house on Beacon Street 
 For food to feed our honored fleet." 
 
 And so it was that all were fed 
 Most sumptuously ; and each one 
 
 said 
 That Madam with her gracious mien. 
 Had entertained them* like a queen ! 
 
 Then Count d'Estaing who would 
 
 not be 
 Outdone in hospitality, 
 Begged Madam to invite some day 
 Her friends to meet them down the 
 
 bay; 
 And Madam (if the tale be true) 
 Invited all the friends she knew. 
 
64 MADAM HANCOCK 
 
 Till, in astonishment, the fleet 
 Five hundred Boston ladies greet ! 
 
 But Count d'Estaing with beaming 
 
 face 
 Received them all with courtly grace, 
 ^\\i\Q feu-de-joie and cannonade 
 Old Boston Bay a fete-day made. 
 
DORA 
 
DORA 
 
 All Nature seemed awaking from her 
 
 winter nap ; 
 The trees, though leafless, felt the 
 
 rising sap 
 Stir in their veins ; the robin's clarion 
 
 call 
 Rang out upon the morning air, and 
 
 all 
 The strange, sweet restlessness of 
 
 Spring seemed given 
 Within the blue-bird's note; bright 
 
 smiled the heaven. 
 And, patiently, the fresh-ploughed 
 
 earth beneath 
 Was waiting Nature's miracle ; a 
 
 wreath 
 Of curling smoke from briar and 
 
 brushwood rose 
 To be again incarnate — but who 
 
 knows 
 In what new form of life ? 
 67 
 
68 DORA 
 
 Beside the door — 
 The open door that looks o'er 
 
 wood and moor — 
 Dora, the farmer's daughter, stands 
 
 that day ; 
 And blushes with the merry dimples 
 
 play 
 Upon her cheeks, as, suddenly, she 
 
 sees 
 A hurrying form among the orchard 
 
 trees ; 
 And now within the door young 
 
 Ezra stands — 
 Ezra, the neighbor's son, whose sun- 
 burnt hands 
 Are filled with flowers ; arbutus 
 
 buds he brings, 
 Hepaticas, anemones — the Spring's 
 First gifts, and as he lets them fall 
 Into her hands, he whispers in her 
 
 ear — 
 (Fond lover's words for no one else 
 
 to hear) — 
 That she is fairer, sweeter than them 
 
 all! — 
 But now there comes a quick, excited 
 
 call. 
 
DORA 69 
 
 " Hist ! Dora, Ezra! ere to-morrow's 
 sun 
 
 The red-coats will be here from Lex- 
 ington ! " 
 
 Aud Dora's father bids them swift 
 conceal 
 
 In fresh-ploughed earth, in barrels, 
 bags of meal, 
 
 The ammunition he had brought the 
 day 
 
 Before, from neighboring towns to 
 store away 
 
 For future need. 
 
 And then, to Dora, came 
 A sudden inspiration, as a flame 
 Of patriot ardor fired her breast — 
 One place there was the British in 
 
 their quest 
 Would never think to search, or if 
 
 they did 
 The bullets and the powder could be 
 
 hid 
 Securely 'neath the linen in her 
 
 chest — 
 The wedding chest where she had 
 
 laid away 
 
70 DORA 
 
 *Mongst bags *of fragrant lavender 
 
 that day 
 Her homespun outfit, for no foreign 
 
 gown 
 Was worn by maid or matron in the 
 
 town 
 Of "red-hot" rebel fame! 
 
 The very name 
 Of buying English taffeta, a 
 
 shame — 
 A " tory " act was deemed, and for 
 
 their tea 
 They dried the raspberry leaves that 
 
 all might see 
 How odious was the '' Stamp " of 
 
 tyranny ! 
 
 So, Dora's wedding garments, every 
 
 one 
 Was made from wool and flax her 
 
 hands had spun, 
 And woven on the home-made wheel 
 
 and loom. 
 And laid within the coffer in her 
 
 room — 
 The quaint, carved oaken coffer, worn 
 
 and brown, 
 
DORJ * 71 
 
 Through many generations, handed 
 
 down 
 Yet strong as any miser's chest. 
 
 Meanwhile, 
 
 From Lincoln, Acton, Chelmsford 
 and Carlisle, 
 
 And all the neighboring towns came 
 minute-men — 
 
 Plain, sturdy farmers, but brave 
 fighters when 
 
 The conflict came, as every school- 
 boy knows ! 
 
 Within the woods, in hay-lofts, fields, 
 
 they chose 
 The safest places they could find to 
 
 hide 
 Their precious ammunition ; far and 
 
 wide 
 They scattered it throughout old 
 
 Concord town 
 Before the British red-coats had 
 
 come down 
 From Lexington ; but spite of all 
 
 their care 
 
 Y 
 
72 DORA 
 
 Five hundred pounds of balls were 
 
 captured where 
 They thought them most secure. 
 
 To Dora's home 
 By seven o'clock a hungry band had 
 
 come. 
 And mindful how in Holy Writ we 
 
 read 
 That even our worst foes we still 
 
 should feed, 
 The mother, like a Christian, opened 
 
 wide 
 Her larder doors, but when the 
 
 British tried 
 To make some payment, " Nay ! " 
 
 she proudly cried, 
 " Take back your price of blood ! " 
 
 With rude haste, then. 
 The house was searched and sacked 
 
 throughout ; but when 
 Sweet Pora's room was reached, the 
 
 red-coats said — 
 (An insolent young captain at their 
 
 head !) 
 " Give us a kiss, my pretty maid, 
 
 and we 
 
DORA 73 
 
 Will not disturb your wedding 
 finery ! " 
 
 Then, furious at her cold, disdainful 
 
 mien. 
 The soldiers broke the quaint, old 
 
 carven chest 
 And slashed the dainty garments in 
 
 their quest, 
 But ere they found the bullets hid 
 
 between, 
 A sudden shot upon the bridge was 
 
 heard. 
 And hurriedly they seized — each 
 
 man — his sword 
 And gun, and hastened at their cap- 
 taints word 
 To hold the entrance of the old 
 
 North bridge. 
 For minute-men were seen upon the 
 
 ridge 
 And messengers were at the door to 
 
 tell 
 How, there, the two rash red-coat 
 
 troopers fell ! 
 
 Ah ! what a strange, uncanny day it 
 seemed ! — 
 
74 DORA 
 
 Poor Dora walked about as one who 
 
 dreamed ; 
 Her wedding garments ruined past 
 
 repair 
 She put again within the coffer 
 
 where 
 The powder and the bullets still lay 
 
 hid; 
 When Ezra came to say good-bye, 
 
 she bid 
 Him " God-speed " with a calm, 
 
 strong face 
 That of her aching heart showed not 
 
 a trace, 
 " It is a glorious cause for which you 
 
 fight 
 To-day," she said, " I would we 
 
 women might 
 Do more than wish you well, but we 
 
 alas ! 
 Can only wait and pray while slowly 
 
 pass 
 The long, long weary hours ! " and 
 
 Dora saw 
 As in a vision how the tide of war 
 Which rose that April day would 
 
 sweep ere long 
 
DORJ 75 
 
 Through all the land with current 
 
 fierce and strong, 
 And claim, as sacrifice, full many a 
 
 life 
 Ere victory, at last, might crown the 
 
 strife. 
 
 But Ezra, thinking of the wedding 
 
 day. 
 With all a lover's hopefulness could 
 
 say, 
 " 'Tis only for a little while, dear 
 
 heart, — 
 Surely I shall be back again ere 
 
 long. 
 And you, sweet one, so steadfast, 
 
 brave and strong 
 Will not despond although to-day 
 
 we part.'* 
 And so with kiss and clasp they said 
 
 good-bye 
 And Ezra hastened down the road 
 
 to try 
 The rusty flint-lock that his grand- 
 sire bore 
 In French and Indian wars, long 
 
 years before. 
 
76 DORA 
 
 " A little while ? " Six times the 
 
 flowers of May 
 Had bloomed and faded since that 
 
 parting day. 
 Six, long, heroic years of bitter strife 
 
 had passed 
 Before sweet Liberty was won at 
 
 last. 
 "Peace — Liberty, at last ! " the hap- 
 py bells ring on 
 Until they reach the home where 
 
 Dora spun 
 And wove her wedding garments 
 
 long ago — 
 Fair wedding garments white as 
 
 driven snow. 
 Through door, through window 
 
 streams the autumn sun 
 And from the maple bough that 
 
 sweeps the sill. 
 Blood-red the leaves have fallen. 
 
 Grave and still 
 Yet holding in her eyes a wondrous 
 
 light — 
 As if she saw some far-off radiant 
 
 sight — 
 
DORA 77 
 
 A black-robed woman gathers up the 
 
 leaves 
 And looks far out across the harvest 
 
 sheaves 
 To church and churchyard where the 
 
 sunbeams cast 
 Long shadows on a grassy mound — 
 
 the last 
 Low bivouac ! — and yet," why should 
 
 she weep ? 
 Sweet is the victory won, and sweet 
 
 the victor's sleep ! 
 
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