Wealth sought the bower of Beauty, Dressed like a modern beau: Just then Love, Health, and Duty Took up their hats to go. Wealth such a cordial welcome met, As made the others grieve; So Duty shunned the gay coquette, Love, pouting, took French leave-- He did! Love, pouting, took French leave! Old Time, the friend of Duty, Next called to see the fair; He laid his hand on Beauty, And left her in despair Wealth vanished!--Last went rosy Health-- And she was doomed to prove That those who Duty slight for Wealth, Can never hope for Love! Ah, no! Can never hope for Love! St. Agnes' Shrine. While before St. Agnes' shrine Knelt a true knight's lady-love, From the wars of Palestine Came a gentle carrier-dove. Round his neck a Silken string Fastened words the warrior writ: At her call he stooped his wing, And upon her finger lit. She, like one enchanted, pored O'er the contents of the scroll-- For that lady loved her lord With a pure, devoted soul. To her heart her dove she drew, While she traced the burning line; Then away his minion flew Back to sainted Palestine. To and fro, from hand to hand Came and went a carrier-dove, Till throughout the Holy Land War resigned his sword to Love. Swift her dove, on wings of light, Brought the news from Palestine, And the lady her true knight Wedded at St. Agnes' shrine. Western Refrain Droop not, brothers! As we go, O'er the mountains, Under the boughs of mistletoe, Log huts we'll rear, While herds of deer and buffalo Furnish the cheer. File o'er the mountains--steady, boys For game afar We have our rifles ready, boys!-- Aha! Throw care to the winds, Like chaff, boys!--ha! And join in the laugh, boys!-- Hah--hah--hah! Cheer up, brothers! As we go, O'er the mountains, When we've wood and prairie-land, Won by our toil, We'll reign like kings in fairy-land, Lords of the soil! Then westward ho! in legions, boys-- Fair Freedom's star Points to her sunset regions, boys-- Aha! Throw care to the winds, Like chaff, boys!--ha! And join in the laugh, boys!-- Hah--hah--hah! The Prairie on Fire [See Notes] The shades of evening closed around The boundless prairies of the west, As, grouped in sadness on the ground, A band of pilgrims leaned to rest: Upon the tangled weeds were laid The mother and her youngest born, Who slept, while others watched and prayed, And thus the weary night went on. Thick darkness shrouded earth and sky-- When on the whispering winds there came The Teton's shrill and thrilling cry, And heaven was pierced with shafts of flame! The sun seemed rising through the haze, But with an aspect dread and dire: The very air appeared to blaze!-- O God! the Prairie was on fire!