Part 11 (1/2)

The strife went on with its loss and shame, As generations went and came, And each in its turn the task essayed To solve the problem so long delayed.

Then kinder, kinglier thought prevailed, Where threat of sword and gun had failed; And love-illumined reason wrought The adjustment long so vainly sought.

”For how can a trifle of earth and air With the worth of human lives compare?

And what can it matter if thine or mine Be the narrow side on the Boundary Line?

”And why should greed and grim distrust Despoil us of our faith and trust?

Enough, enough, let us pledge our word To settle by judgment, not by sword.

”Let us heed the counsel our good priests bring, And raise the standard of Christ our King, And the here or there of the Boundary Line Let G.o.d and the British king define.”

Then the mother-heart of the nation stirred, As the fair De Costa's plea was heard: ”Fathers and brothers! warriors, men!

Shall we give our bravest to death and pain?

”Shall we hush our hearts as we see them go-- G.o.d pity!--to strive with a brother foe?

Long we have waited, have suffered and prayed For a joy still denied us, a hope still delayed.

”Enough; let the sun in highest heaven Pencil the line for which you have striven; Let a princely people on either side In friends.h.i.+p and fair accord abide;

”Be the strife of the past to the wild winds swept; The faith of the future unswervingly kept; And let 'The Christ of the Andes' rest In token of peace on the mountain's crest.”

Grandly the people made reply; The pledge was taken, the arms laid by, And glad thanksgiving and festal song Witnessed the joy of the gathered throng.

Joy! for the strife of the past was o'er; Joy! for the promise of war no more; Joy in the gladness of land and home, Joy for the world-wide peace to come.

On snow-tipped height of the Andean range They planted the statue fair and strange; And there, to the query of the sky, Its bronze and granite make reply:

”I witness the failure of the sword, The victory of the Love-sent word; To dust may crumble rock and hill, This pledge of nations abideth still.”

So now the Boundary Line is laid; Christ in the heart hath the conflict stayed; And now doth ”the Christ of the Andes” rest In token of peace on the mountain's crest.

MARGARET LEE

Margaret Lee--you do not know her?

Rightly named--a pearl is she; Half a score of years I've loved her-- Precious Margaret Lee.

”Dimples?” No; nor ”golden tresses,”

Nor yet ”voice of silvery tone”;-- If such phrases must express her, Beauty she has none.

Soft brown hair and grey eyes dreaming Visions that none others see; Plain her features; _you_ might call her Homely Margaret Lee.

Margaret owns no stately mansion, Carries not a heavy purse; Heiress to no ”lordly acres,”