The Youth's Coronal Part 16

Glad, his counsel straight I took-- I received his gift with joy; All my former ways forsook, And became a minstrel-boy.

With my mountain airs to sing, Forward then I roamed afar, Sweeping still the tuneful string-- Having hope my leading star.

In the hamlets where I've gone, Groups would gather--music-bound: In the cities I have drawn List'ners till my hopes were crowned.

Ever saving as I earned, I of one dear object dreamed; To my mountain then returned, And our cottage-home redeemed.

Time has wiped away our tears; Here we dwell together blest; All our sorrows, doubts and fears I have played and sung to rest.

Here my aged parents live Free from want, and toil, and cares; All the bliss that earth can give Deem they in this home of theirs.

Life's night-shades fast o'er them creep; All their wrongs have been forgiven-- They have but to fall asleep In their cot, to wake in heaven.

Gentle friend, dost thou inquire What's the lineage whence I came?

Jesse is my shepherd sire-- David-Jesse is my name!

=The Veteran and the Child=.

"Come, grandfather, show how you carried your gun To the field, where America's freedom was won, Or bore your old sword, which you say was new then, When you rose to command, and led forward your men; And tell how you felt with the b.a.l.l.s whizzing by, Where the wounded fell round you, to bleed and to die!"

The prattler had stirred, in the veteran's breast, The embers of fire that had long been at rest.

The blood of his youth rushed anew through his veins; The soldier returned to his weary campaigns; His perilous battles at once fighting o'er, While the soul of nineteen lit the eye of four-score.

"I carried my musket, as one that must be But loosed from the hold of the dead, or the free!

And fearless I lifted my good, trusty sword, In the hand of a mortal, the strength of the Lord!

In battle, my vital flame freely I felt Should go, but the chains of my country to melt!

"I sprinkled my blood upon Lexington's sod, And Charlestown's green height to the war-drum I trod.

From the fort, on the Hudson, our guns I depressed, The proud coming sail of the foe to arrest.

I stood at Stillwater, the Lakes and White Plains, And offered for freedom to empty my veins!

"Dost now ask me, child, since thou hear'st here I've been, Why my brow is so furrowed, my locks white and thin-- Why this faded eye cannot go by the line, Trace out little beauties, and sparkle like thine; Or why so unstable this tremulous knee, Who bore 'sixty years since,' such perils for thee?

"What! sobbing so quick? are the tears going to start?

Come! lean thy young head on thy grandfather's heart!

It has not much longer to glow with the joy I feel thus to clasp thee, so n.o.ble a boy!

But when in earth's bosom it long has been cold, A man, thou'lt recall, what, a babe, thou art told."

=Captain Kidd=.

There's many a one who oft has heard The name of Robert Kidd, Who cannot tell, perhaps, a word Of him, or what he did.

So, though I never saw the man, And lived not in his day; I'll tell you how his guilt began-- To what it paved the way.

'Twas in New York Kidd had his home; And there he left his wife And children, when he went to roam, And lead a seaman's life.

Now Robert had as firm a hand, A heart as stern and brave, As ever met in one on land, Or on the briny wave.

'Twas in the third king William's time, When many a pirate bold Committed on the seas the crime Of shedding blood for gold.

So Captain Kidd was singled out As one devoid of fears, To take a s.h.i.+p and cruise about Against the Bucaniers.

The s.h.i.+p was armed with many a gun, And manned with many a man, Across the southern seas to run To foil the pirate's plan.

But when she long, from isle to isle, Without success had sailed, And made no capture all the while, Her master's patience failed.

The prizes he so oft had sought, He found he sought in vain; And soon a wicked, b.l.o.o.d.y thought, Came into Robert's brain!

His mind he opened to his men; And found his guilty crew Agreed with him, that they, from then, Would all turn pirates too!

He threw his Bible in the deep, Defied its Author's will; And, with his conscience put to sleep, Began to rob and kill.

And now the desperado reigned, A tyrant on the waves; While they whose blood his hands had stained, Went down to watery graves.

No merchant s.h.i.+p could near him go, Which he would not annoy; For Kidd was pa.s.sing to and fro, And seeking to destroy.

He seized the vessel, plunged the knife Within the seamen's breast: And by a cruel waste of life, His evil gains possessed.

He then would make the nearest isle.

And go at night by stealth, To hide within the earth awhile His last ill-gotten wealth.

Thus, many a s.h.i.+ning wedge of gold This modern Achan hid; And many a frightful tale was told About the pirate, Kidd.

But Justice does not slumber long; If slow, she's ever sure.

There's none too artful, quick, or strong For her to make secure!

To Boston, with a brazen face, The pirate boldly went, Where he was seized; and in disgrace And chains, to England sent.

The captain and his crew were there, A solemn, fearful sight; Resigning life high up in air, E'en at the gibbet's height!

For many a year their bodies hung Along the river side; As beacons, showing old and young How they had lived and died.

The wealth they hid was never found.

Though often sought of men.

'Tis where they placed it in the ground, Till they should come again!

The earth has seemed by Heaven constrained.

The treasures to withhold That price of blood has none obtained, Or used the pirate's gold!

=The Dying Storm=.