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Oh, may his spirit linger near,

As by old Monticello's slope;
Inspire Missouri's sons who gather here

With all the scholar's love, the patriot's hope.

And He who holds the nation's fate

Within the hollow of His hand
Preserve the Union ever strong and great,

And guide the statesmen of our native land.

ON BOARD THE DERELICT

By YOUNG E, ALLISON

[This poem appeared first in the Louisville Courier-Journal of 1898.)

Fifteen men on the Dead Man's chest

Yo-ho-ho and a bottle of rum!
Drink and the devil had done for the rest
Yo-ho-ho and a bottle of rum!

—(Cap'n Billy Bones his song.)

Fifteen men on the Dead Man's chest

Yo-ho-ho and a bottle of rum!
Drink and the devil had done for the rest

Yo-ho-ho and a bottle of rum!
The mate was fixed by the bos'n's pike,
The bos'n brained with a marlinspike,
And Cookey's throat was marked belike

It had been gripped

By fingers ten;
And there they lay,

All good dead men,
Like break-o'-day in a boozin'-ken-

Yo-ho-ho and a bottle of rum!

Fifteen men of a whole ship's list

Yo-ho-ho and a bottle of rum!
Dead and bedamned—and the rest gone whist!

Yo-ho-ho and a bottle of rum!

The skipper lay with his nob in gore,
Where the scullion's axe his cheek had shore
And the scullion he was stabbed times four.

And there they lay

And the soggy skies
Dreened all day long

In up-staring eyes-
At murk sunset and at foul sunrise

Yo-ho-ho and a bottle of rum!

Fifteen men of 'em stiff and stark

Yo-ho-ho and a bottle of rum!
Ten of the crew had the Murder mark-

Yo-ho-ho and a bottle of rum!
'Twas a cutlass swipe, or an ounce of lead,
Or a yawning hole in a battered head-
And the scuppers glut with a rotting red.

And there they lay“

Aye, damn my eyes !
All lookouts clapped

On paradise,
All souls bound just the contra'wise-

Yo-ho-ho and a bottle of rum!

Fifteen men of 'em good and true

Yo-ho-ho and a bottle of rum!
Every man Jack could ha' sailed with Old Pews

Yo-ho-ho and a bottle of rum!
There was chest on chest full of Spanish gold,
With a ton of plate in the middle hold,
And the cabin's riot of loot untold.

And they lay there,

That had took the plum,
With sightless glare

And with lips struck dumb,
While we shared all by the rule of thumb

Yo-ho-ho and a bottle of rum!

More was seen through the stern-light screen

Yo-ho-ho and a bottle of rum!

Chartings undoubt where a woman had been

Yo-ho-ho and a bottle of rum!
A flimsy shift on a bunker cot,
With a thin dirk slot through the bosom spot,
And the lace stiff-dry in a purplish blot.

Or was she wench.

Or some shuddering maid?
That dared the knife

And that took the blade?
By God! she was stuff for a plucky jade!

Yo-ho-ho and a bottle of rum!

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Fifteen men on the Dead Man's chest

Yo-ho-ho and a bottle of rum!
Drink and the devil had done for the rest

Yo-ho-ho and a bottle of rum!
We wrapped 'em all in a mains'l tight,
With twice ten turns of a hawser's bight,
And we heaved 'em over and out of sight-

With a yo-heave-ho!

And a fare-you-well!
And a sullen plunge

In the sullen swell,
Ten-fathoms deep on the road to hell-

Yo-ho-ho and a bottle of rum!

TRISTRAM AND ISOULT.

By MARTHA W. AUSTIN

['Tristram and Isoult,' 1905. Copyright by the author and used here by permis. sion. Selection from Part III, Scene 1.1

I soult Blanche Mains

The casement--wilt thou have it closed?

Tristram
Nay, let it stay, I fain would see the stars
And feel the fitful, faint, salt-breathing airs.
My spirit is so still I know that Death
Hath come. I am too weak for pain or love.
The wind of Destiny drops to a calm.

What are we but a column of towering dust
Raised by a breath of passion in the waste,
And when the wind hath passed we fall to dust
Again.. Think you Isoult, I might be helped
Into the air, forth on the Battlements ?

I soult Blanche Mains
I'll call thy men and they shall carry thee.

.

(She calls without) Brian—Boris-Uwaine-Meliot!

(Enter four retainers. They support Tristram from the room. He leans heavily on them. Isoult Blanche Mains goes to the window and looks out.

It hath grown dark, I can no longer see.
The moon will be to-night-she steps from out
The middle sea and stands a moment-long
Still on the threshold of the world: the world
That empty seems of any save of her.
The air is full of her, as one we love
When he is near will fill the room, until
We scarce draw breath for his mere presence. So
The moon fills all; and then she walks the path
Straight o'er the sea, and all the little waves
Jump up to kiss her silver feet.

(She takes up the harp that leans against the casement, sweeping it with her fingers.)

Last night
I heard the sea-wind sighing in the strings
As if a sorrow audible did haunt,
For hands that ne'er shall touch its soul again.
My harp, those songs of his live in thee still.

(She sings.)
Sea-Swallow that didst bear her on thy wings
To old Tintagil, hold of Cornish kings,
Sea-Swallow bring her thence again to me,
We will take refuge now, we driven three,
We will take refuge with the friendly sea,

Sea-Swallow.

Sea-Swallow, bear us from the king-owned earth
To those wild realms unruled that gave us birth,
To the waste regions of the restless brine,
Whose life and freedom will I claim for mine,
Whose life and freedom shalt thou claim for thine,

Sea-Swallow.

Sea-Swallow, her sole throne shall be thy prow,
The blowing spray shall crown Queen Isoult's brow,
The warming East shall find her Morning's guest,
The sunset leave us loitering to the West,
The sunset leave thee to thy starry quest,

Sea-Swallow.

Sea-Swallow, hasten ere it be too late,
The Queen is wearied of her empty state,
Come let us lay our lives in the winds' hand
For mine is wasting in the woeful land,
And thine is wasting on the idle strand,

Sea-Swallow.

(As the last chords die out Isoult Blanche Mains looks up and sees La Belle Isoult standing on the threshold. For a moment, in silence the two steadfastly regard each other.)

Queen Isoult

I heard the harp-I thought that it was he
Where is he?

Isoult Blanche Mains

On the battlements, without-
Yet stay an instant. It was I who sent
For thee.

Queen Isoult

How good—how generous—thou art! Complete thy goodness—lead me to him-quick!

Isoult Blanche Mains

I ask one grace—that thou wilt stand there still,
And let me look at thee. For I must see
What power is in thee to eat men's hearts

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