Which Loved Her Best?

Two votaries of love's maddening dream At twilight sat beside a stream, Each painting scenes of future bliss, Dependent on their darling's kiss. Both were young and both were fair, With noble hearts and manly air, And both were members of a band Who bled to free his native land. Each was bound both heart and soul Beneath fair Nellie's sweet control, Yet they were friends both true and tried, If such ere lived, if such ere died. Each loved her much, yet neither knew How well each loved her, nor how true, For each was dreaming of the hour That he would cull this priceless flower. At last Ned turned and gayly said, "Next Wednesday I and Nellie wed— God knows I am the happiest man In all this joyous Western land. "I could not keep this back from you— That would be unjust—untrue. I feel whatever shall betide That you will e'er defend my bride." Harvey turned aside his face, Lest his friend should see some trace Of the anguish and despair The hopeless suffering mirrored there. Each word had sunk within his heart Like adder's tooth or poisoned dart; Joyful love and hope had fled, And left his withered heart—stone dead. He raised his haggard face above Until an angel mother's love Sent comfort to her suffering child, That made him calm and meek and mild. By memories of the tented field Where patriots died, but dared not yield, He knew that Ned his arm had lent To stop steel for his bosom meant, And oft had watched beside his bed When others in dismay had fled; When he spoke, his voice was low And soft as rippling streamlets flow: "I wish you peace and joy, Ned; You best deserve this queen to wed. I only crave in future life To serve you and your peerless wife." The loyal look in Harvey's eyes Was to Ned a new surprise; And in a moment all was plain— His friend's devotion and his pain. They stood and wrung each others hand To reinforce their friendship's band— Their hearts were full, their eyes were wet, Yet who can such a scene regret? Their friendship stood the cruel test, And sank triumphant into rest; They parted, but to meet again Where life was torture, memory pain. One year passed, and war had swept O'er the spot where these two wept, While they, with Meig's galland band, Were held by Santa Anna's hand. Behind Satillo's gloomy walls, Whose history stoutest heart appalls, Here base deeds were hourly wrought With hell's intensest malice fraught. Two hundred patriots true and tried To Santa Anna's shame here died Simply because they leapt the wall And strove to go beyond recall! Ned and his comrades planned their flight While careless sentries slept at night, And in safety reached the distant plain Where hope and life revived again. Across the arid plain they sped, Half clothed, half starved and almost dead; Without a guide to lead them right They toiled by day and prayed by night. The blistering soil bold cactus bred Till every toil-worn foot was bled, And one by one the hapless band Fell prostrate on the glittering sand. Pursuing soldiers found them thus, And drug and drove them to the "truss," There to await the "tortures grand" That Santa Anna would command. "Nine of ten shall now be shot; Choose the guilty dogs by lot: This law for ages now untold Has defied both fraud and gold!" Nine black beans and one snow white Were placed within a box at night— Every captive must draw one, Blindfolded, ere the work begun. If white, he lived, if black, he died— Thus were the Texas patriots tried! By sons of Gantimozin's race— Man's caricature and heaven's disgrace! Harvey drew one of faultless white, Ned drew one as black as night. "I'm lost—oh, God, my wife!" Ned gasped, As Harvey sprang his hand to clasp. "Not so," he cried, "your bean is white— See, mine is black, thank God! 'tis right!" E'er Ned could draw a conscious breath— Harvey had met a hero's death! Which loved her best, the man who died Or he who lived to cheer his bride? Please answer me; O heart, awake— Such liberty I dare not take.