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Wide through the landscape of his dreams
The lordly Niger flowed; Beneath the palm-trees on the plain
Once more a king he strode; And heard the tinkling caravans
Descend the mountain-road.
He saw once more his dark-eyed queen
Among her children stand;
They held him by the hand !-
And fell into the sand.
And then at furious speed he rode
Along the Niger's bank ;
And, with a martial clank,
Smiting his stallion's flank.
Before him, like a blood-red flag,
The bright flamingoes flew; From morn till night he followed their flight,
O’er plains where the tamarind grew, Till he saw the roofs of Caffre huts,
And the ocean rose to view.
At night he heard the lion roar,
And the hyæna scream, And the river-horse, as he crushed the reeds
Beside some hidden stream; And it passed, like a glorious roll of drums,
Through the triumph of his dream.
The forests, with their myriad tongues,
Shouted of liberty ;
With a voice so wild and free,
At their tempestuous glee.
He did not feel the driver's whip,
Nor the burning heat of day;
And his lifeless body lay
Had broken and thrown away!
THE GOOD PART,
THAT SHALL NOT BE TAKEN AWAY.
She dwells by Great Kenhawa's side,
In valleys green and cool;
Are in the village school.
Her soul, like the transparent air
That robes the hills above, Though not of earth, encircles there
All things with arms of love.
And thus she walks among her girls
With praise and mild rebukes; Subduing e'en rude village churls
By her angelic looks.
She reads to them at eventide
Of One who came to save ; To cast the captive's chains aside,
And liberate the slave.
And oft the blessed time foretells
When all men shall be free; And musical, as silver bells,
Their falling chains shall be.
And following her beloved Lord,
In decent poverty, She makes her life one sweet record
And deed of charity.