Like to a wizard, or magician old, With some mysterious secret to unfold, This man, whose bearing would command respect, Stepped forth and eyed his listeners direct; Then waiving preludes or apologies, Addressed his auditors in terms like these: "These lips, which now their secret shall reveal, For more than forty years have worn a seal. For years as hunter, pioneer and scout, I roamed the western solitudes about, Not caring whether fortune smiled or not, If memory's painful twinges were forgot. I sought, as many other men have done, Within the wilderness,--oblivion. Work is the only sure iconoclast For the unpleasant memories of the past; So as a placer miner, prospector, And half a dozen avocations more, Within the city, and the solitude, The star-eyed Goddess of Success I wooed. Twice was I numbered with the men of wealth, Twice lost I all, including strength and health. For wealth, when fortune's fickle wheel revolves Adversely, into empty air dissolves. Till fate so strangely led my footsteps here, Mine was, indeed, a versatile career. Yet none my antecedents ever guessed, Nor learned from me the cause that led me west. This hair and beard which envy not to-night The drifting snowbanks their unbroken white, Methinks, as memory scans the backward track, Vied with the raven's glossy coat of black, When I, with some adventurous emigrants, First crossed the plain's monotonous expanse, To leave my former history behind. But who can regulate his peace of mind, Or drop the morbid burdens of the breast By simply going east or coming west? 'Way down upon the Rappahannock's shore, Enshrined in memory, though seen no more, There lies an old plantation. There I drew My infant breath, and into manhood grew. Its fields are overgrown with willows now, For more than forty years unturned by plough, While war's red desolation razed to earth The old stone manor-house that claimed my birth. Ah, yes! 'Tis forty years ago, or more, Since, standing near the old paternal door, One pleasant morning in the early spring, With some few friends and kinfolks visiting, Two mounted neighbors stopped in passing by, And reining up their horses hurriedly Told us the news, which like a cannon ball Sped through the land, announcing Sumter's fall. The animus with which their comments fell, I heard months later in the rebel yell.