At midnight he woke with a quick heart-beat, And sprang with a will to his throbbing feet;— For armed men swarmed in the dim ravine, And Ethan Allen, as proud of mien As a king on his throne, smiled down on him, While he stretched and straightened each stiffened limb. “Nay, nay,” said the Colonel, “take your rest, As a knight who has done his chief’s behest!”
“Not yet!” cried the armorer. “Where’s my gun? A knight fights on till the field is won!” And into Fort Ti, ere dawn of day, He stormed with his comrades to share the fray!
FORESHADOWINGS
Wind of the winter night, Under the starry skies Somewhere my lady bright, Slumbering lies. Wrapped in calm maiden dreams, Where the pale moonlight streams, Softly she sleeps.
I do not know her face, Pure as the lonely star That in yon darkling space Shineth afar; Never with soft command Touched I her willing hand, Kissed I her lips.
I have not heard her voice, I do not know her name; Yet doth my heart rejoice, Owning her claim; Yet am I true to her; All that is due to her Sacred I keep.
Never a thought of me Troubles her soft repose; Courant of mine may be Lily nor rose. They may not bear to her This heart’s fond prayer to her, Yet—she is mine.
Wind of the winter night, Over the fields of snow, Over the hill so white, Tenderly blow! Somewhere red roses bloom; Into her warm, hushed room, Bear thou their breath.
Whisper—Nay, nay, thou sprite, Breathe thou no tender word; Wind of the winter night, Die thou unheard. True love shall yet prevail, Telling its own sweet tale: Till then I wait.