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[271]
A little while the world may run
Its old mad way, with needle-gun
And iron-clad, but truth, at last, shall reign:
The cradle-song of Christ was never sung in vain!”
Shifting his scattered papers, ‘Here,’
He said, as died the faint applause,
“Is something that I found last year
Down on the island known as Orr's.
I had it from a fair-haired girl
Who, oddly, bore the name of Pearl,
(As if by some droll freak of circumstance,)
Classic, or wellnigh so, in Harriet Stowe's romance.”
Boston and New York, Houghton, Mifflin and company, 1888-89.
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