 | The select poems of Dr. Thomas Dunn English (exclusive of the "Battle lyrics") |  |
JOHN TREVANION'S STORY.
They have laid him to-day in the churchyard old,
And I sit by myself in the twilight dim,
With thoughts going back to the earlier days
That I passed at the school or the play-ground with him.
Over half of a century memory leaps,
And brings the young life into being again,
When we were a couple of bare-footed boys,
And to him I was Jack, and to me he was Ben.
And I sit by myself in the twilight dim,
With thoughts going back to the earlier days
That I passed at the school or the play-ground with him.
Over half of a century memory leaps,
And brings the young life into being again,
When we were a couple of bare-footed boys,
And to him I was Jack, and to me he was Ben.
Young Benedict Brown was a shoemaker's boy;
My father, the wealthiest man in the town;
But boys are not sordid, and soon we were known
As Damon Trevanion and Pythias Brown.
The two of us went to old Morris's school,
And were constant companions when school work was done;
But, mark you, though he was at head of the class,
In fishing I always caught two to his one.
My father, the wealthiest man in the town;
But boys are not sordid, and soon we were known
As Damon Trevanion and Pythias Brown.
The two of us went to old Morris's school,
And were constant companions when school work was done;
But, mark you, though he was at head of the class,
In fishing I always caught two to his one.
While chatting together one day when half-grown
We talked of the future, and what we should do
When each came to manhood; I said I would strive
To double my fortune before I was through.
Quoth Ben: “You'll have money to further your plan;
I have nothing but firm, honest purpose, and I
Intend to read law, win a name and respect,
And be member of Congress and judge ere I die.”
We talked of the future, and what we should do
When each came to manhood; I said I would strive
To double my fortune before I was through.
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I have nothing but firm, honest purpose, and I
Intend to read law, win a name and respect,
And be member of Congress and judge ere I die.”
I laughed. “'Tis a very good purpose,” I said;
“You aim pretty high, Ben; but think, after all,
How rocky and rugged and steep is the road,
How high is the hill, and how far if you fall.”
He answered: “Though rocky and rugged the road,
Its length may be travelled by one with a will;
And up to the House they call Beautiful, Jack,
The Pilgrim must climb by the Difficult Hill.”
“You aim pretty high, Ben; but think, after all,
How rocky and rugged and steep is the road,
How high is the hill, and how far if you fall.”
He answered: “Though rocky and rugged the road,
Its length may be travelled by one with a will;
And up to the House they call Beautiful, Jack,
The Pilgrim must climb by the Difficult Hill.”
His words brought the story of Bunyan to mind,
And the blood to my cheeks by my shame was impelled,
For I felt that the man with the muck-rake was I,
While he gazed at the crown by an angel upheld.
And I knew that, with honor and courage possessed,
He would follow the earnest career he had planned;
So I said: “Well, my comrade, whatever your aim,
Count on Jack as your friend;” and I gave him my hand.
And the blood to my cheeks by my shame was impelled,
For I felt that the man with the muck-rake was I,
While he gazed at the crown by an angel upheld.
And I knew that, with honor and courage possessed,
He would follow the earnest career he had planned;
So I said: “Well, my comrade, whatever your aim,
Count on Jack as your friend;” and I gave him my hand.
I left him for college, and Ben went to work;
He sat on the shoe-bench and hammered away,
Made enough to support him and buy a few books;
The night gave to study, to labor the day.
'Twas but in vacations I saw him for years;
He was there, while I read at my college afar;
But a week ere my bachelor's honors I took,
Young Benedict Brown had been called to the bar.
He sat on the shoe-bench and hammered away,
Made enough to support him and buy a few books;
The night gave to study, to labor the day.
'Twas but in vacations I saw him for years;
He was there, while I read at my college afar;
But a week ere my bachelor's honors I took,
Young Benedict Brown had been called to the bar.
I crossed the Atlantic, and roamed foreign lands;
Was gone for ten years; and, returning again,
I sought for old friends, and among them I found,
Ranking high among lawyers, my school-fellow, Ben.
Not rich, but with comforts around him, and blest
With children and wife and his fellows' regard;
But he owned, as we sat after dinner and talked,
That the climbing of Difficult Hill had been hard.
Was gone for ten years; and, returning again,
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Ranking high among lawyers, my school-fellow, Ben.
Not rich, but with comforts around him, and blest
With children and wife and his fellows' regard;
But he owned, as we sat after dinner and talked,
That the climbing of Difficult Hill had been hard.
He gained, in the end, all he aimed at, and more—
Congress, Governor, then was Chief-Justice at last;
And as I had become, as I wished, millionaire,
We often recurred to our hopes of the past.
Our friendship ne'er checked; you may judge what I felt
When the telegraph flashed me a message, to come,
If I'd see my old friend ere his bright eyes were closed,
And the silvery voice, thrilling thousands, grown dumb.
Congress, Governor, then was Chief-Justice at last;
And as I had become, as I wished, millionaire,
We often recurred to our hopes of the past.
Our friendship ne'er checked; you may judge what I felt
When the telegraph flashed me a message, to come,
If I'd see my old friend ere his bright eyes were closed,
And the silvery voice, thrilling thousands, grown dumb.
I stood at his bedside; his fast-glazing eye
Lit when he beheld me; though dying, and weak,
His lips moved; I bent to the pillow my ear,
And he managed, in difficult whisper, to speak—
“I go to the House they call Beautiful, Jack;
I have done with all climbing on Difficult Hill.”
Then he smiled, and a glory came over his face,
And the heart of the Pilgrim forever was still.
Lit when he beheld me; though dying, and weak,
His lips moved; I bent to the pillow my ear,
And he managed, in difficult whisper, to speak—
“I go to the House they call Beautiful, Jack;
I have done with all climbing on Difficult Hill.”
Then he smiled, and a glory came over his face,
And the heart of the Pilgrim forever was still.
| The select poems of Dr. Thomas Dunn English (exclusive of the "Battle lyrics") | |