The baby-mistress of a soldier's heart, She had but friendlessness to stand her friend, And her own orphanhood to plead her part, When he, a wayfarer, did pause, and bend, And bear with him the starry blossom sweet Out of its jeopardy from trampling feet. A gleam of light upon a rainy day, A new-tied knot that must be sever'd soon, At sunrise once before his tent at play, And hurried from the battle-field at noon, While face to face in hostile ranks they stood, Who should have dwelt in peace and brotherhood. But ere the fight, when higher rose the sun, And yet were distant far the rebel bands, She heard at intervals a booming gun, And she was pleased, and laughing clapped her hands; Till he came in with troubled look and tone, Who chose her desolate to be his own. And he said, "Little madam, now farewell, For there will be a battle fought ere night. God be thy shield, for He alone can tell Which way may fall the fortune of the fight. To fitter hands the care of thee pertain, My dear, if we two never meet again." Then he gave money shortly to her nurse, And charged her straitly to depart in haste, And leave the plain, whereon the deadly curse Of war should light with ruin, death, and waste, And all the ills that must its presence blight, E'en if proud victory should bless the right. "But if the rebel cause should prosper, then It were not good among the hills to wend; But journey through to Boston in the fen, And wait for peace, if peace our God shall send; And if my life is spared, I will essay," Quoth he, "to join you there as best I may." So then he kissed the child, and went his way; But many troubles rolled above his head; The sun arose on many an evil day, And cruel deeds were done, and tears were shed; And hope was lost, and loyal hearts were fain In dust to hide,--ere they two met again. So passed the little child from thought, from view-- (The snowdrop blossoms, and then is not there, Forgotten till men welcome it anew), He found her in his heavy days of care, And with her dimples was again beguiled, As on her nurse's knee she sat and smiled. And he became a voyager by sea, And took the child to share his wandering state; Since from his native land compelled to flee, And hopeless to avert her monarch's fate; For all was lost that might have made him pause, And, past a soldier's help, the royal cause. And thus rolled on long days, long months and years, And Margaret within the Xebec sailed; The lulling wind made music in her ears, And nothing to her life's completeness failed. Her pastime 'twas to see the dolphins spring, And wonderful live rainbows glimmering. The gay sea-plants familiar were to her, As daisies to the children of the land; Red wavy dulse the sunburnt mariner Raised from its bed to glisten in her hand; The vessel and the sea were her life's stage-- Her house, her garden, and her hermitage.