Part 9 (1/2)
And I loved gold What else could I Or you, or any earnest one Born in this getting age have done?
”With this one lesson taught froet and hold, and ever hold,-- What else could I have done, forsooth?
”She, seeing how I sought for gold,-- This girl, ht told Of treasures hidden close at hand, In her dead father's old she helped her brothers hide Beneath a broad banana tree, The day the two in battle died,-- The night she dying fled to hed to scorn Her trustful tale She answered not; But old brought
”And when she brought this gold to old, rich, rare, and old,-- When I at last had gold, sweet gold, I cried in very ecstasy!
”Red gold! rich gold! two bags of gold!
The two stout bags of gold she brought And gave with scarce a second thought,-- Why, her two hands could hardly hold!
”Now I had gold! two bags of gold!
Tings of gold to fly, and fly The orld's girth; red gold to hold Against et gold!'
I learned it well in land of snow; And what can glow, so brightly glow, Long winter nights of Northern cold?
”Ay, now at last, at last I had The one thing, all fair things above My land had taught rew an to plan that night For flight, for far and sudden flight,-- For flight; and, too, for flight alone
”I feared! I feared! My heart grew cold,-- Soold of s but rew to hate her face, her creed,-- That face the fairest ever yet That bowed o'er holy cross or bead, Or yet was in God's ie set
”I fled,--nay, not so knavish low As you have fancied, did I fly; I sought her at that shrine, and I Told her full frankly I should go
”I stood a giant in my power,-- And did she question or dispute?
I stood a savage, selfish brute,-- She bowed her head, a lily-flower
”And when I sudden turned to go, And told her I should come no more, She bowed her head so low, so low, Her vast black hair fell pouring o'er
”And that was all; her splendid face Was ht Of hair half hid her fro in her place
”And there, 'h her tears, That she would wait, wait all the years,-- Would wait and pray in her despair
”Nay, did not murmur, not deny,-- She did not cross ht I heard A night-bird's piercing low death-cry!”
THE RHYME OF THE GREAT RIVER
PART II
How soft this ht of the South!