DEPENDENCE.

WHEN a kind parent first his children guides Into a bit of world they have not seen, Though often told about its meadows green, Or of some evil thing that there abides, Their father’s careful care each one derides; His guarded pace to them seems slow and mean, Till sudden, they go hurrying back to lean Against his surer, stronger heart. The sides Of mountains where men’s daring feet would go Alluring are, because no man has trod; The restless slopes are tempting from below, Yet seekers will not in the safe paths plod; Like the weak children are taught to know That man must always follow after God.

I STOOD upon the heights at Arlington, And saw Potomac’s waters seaward flowing, While all about me, past our human knowing The soldiers lay—men who that soil had won From enemies as brave, who would not shun The wrath that followed on their whirlwind sowing, And there among their graves the flowers were growing, And on Virginia shone the springtime sun. Here lies the idol of my boyish dreaming, Beside the storied river that had known The camp-fires of a mighty army, gleaming Where peace to-day her snowy scarf has thrown. Sleep, Sheridan, beyond this world of seeming, Your spirit guard this valley as its own!