Part 7 (2/2)

At last came graduation; Brown received In the One Hundredth Cavalry commission; Then frolic, flirting, parting,--when none grieved Save Brown, who loved our young Academician.

And Grey, who felt his friend was still deceived By Mistress Kitty, who with other beauties Graced the occasion, and it was believed Had promised Brown that when he could recruit his Promised command, she'd share with him those duties.

XXV

Howe'er this was I know not; all I know, The night was June's, the moon rode high and clear; ”'Twas such a night as this,” three years ago, Miss Kitty sang the song that two might hear.

There is a walk where trees o'erarching grow, Too wide for one, not wide enough for three (A fact precluding any plural beau), Which quite explained Miss Kitty's company, But not why Grey that favored one should be.

XXVI

There is a spring, whose limpid waters hide Somewhere within the shadows of that path Called Kosciusko's. There two figures bide,-- Grey and Miss Kitty. Surely Nature hath No fairer mirror for a might-be bride Than this same pool that caught our gentle belle To its dark heart one moment. At her side Grey bent. A something trembled o'er the well, Bright, spherical--a tear? Ah no! a b.u.t.ton fell!

XXVII

”Material minds might think that gravitation,”

Quoth Grey, ”drew yon metallic spheroid down.

The soul poetic views the situation Fraught with more meaning. When thy girlish crown Was mirrored there, there was disintegration Of me, and all my spirit moved to you, Taking the form of slow precipitation!”

But here came ”Taps,” a start, a smile, adieu!

A blush, a sigh, and end of Canto II.

BUGLE SONG

Fades the light, And afar Goeth day, cometh night; And a star Leadeth all, Speedeth all To their rest!

Love, good-night!

Must thou go When the day And the light Need thee so,-- Needeth all, Heedeth all, That is best?

CANTO III

I

Where the sun sinks through leagues of arid sky, Where the sun dies o'er leagues of arid plain, Where the dead bones of wasted rivers lie, Trailed from their channels in yon mountain chain; Where day by day naught takes the wearied eye But the low-r.i.m.m.i.n.g mountains, sharply based On the dead levels, moving far or nigh, As the sick vision wanders o'er the waste, But ever day by day against the sunset traced:

II

There moving through a poisonous cloud that stings With dust of alkali the trampling band Of Indian ponies, ride on dusky wings The red marauders of the Western land; Heavy with spoil, they seek the trail that brings Their flaunting lances to that sheltered bank Where lie their lodges; and the river sings Forgetful of the plain beyond, that drank Its life blood, where the wasted caravan sank.

III

They brought with them the thief's ign.o.ble spoil, The beggar's dole, the greed of chiffonnier, The sc.u.m of camps, the implements of toil s.n.a.t.c.hed from dead hands, to rust as useless here; All they could rake or glean from hut or soil Piled their lean ponies, with the jackdaw's greed For vacant glitter. It were scarce a foil To all this tinsel that one feathered reed Bore on its barb two scalps that freshly bleed!

IV

They brought with them, alas! a wounded foe, Bound hand and foot, yet nursed with cruel care, Lest that in death he might escape one throe They had decreed his living flesh should bear: A youthful officer, by one foul blow Of treachery surprised, yet fighting still Amid his ambushed train, calm as the snow Above him; hopeless, yet content to spill His blood with theirs, and fighting but to kill.

V

He had fought n.o.bly, and in that brief spell Had won the awe of those rude border men Who gathered round him, and beside him fell In loyal faith and silence, save that when By smoke embarra.s.sed, and near sight as well, He paused to wipe his eyegla.s.s, and decide Its nearer focus, there arose a yell Of approbation, and Bob Barker cried, ”Wade in, Dundreary!” tossed his cap and--died.

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