Hill-guarded--firs and rocks upon the hills,
And here and there a solitary pine
Majestic--silent--mourns its slaughtered kin,
Like the last warrior of some tawny tribe
Returned from sunset mountains to behold
Once more the spot where his brave fathers sleep.
The farms along the valley stretch away
On either hand upon the rugged hills--
Walled into fields. Tall elms and willow-trees
Huge-trunked and ivy-hung stand sentinel
Along the roadway walls--storm-wrinkled trees
Planted by men who slumber on the hills.
Amid such scenes all day we rolled along,
And as the shadows of the western hills
Across the valley crept and climbed the slopes,
The sunset blazed their hazy tops and fell
Upon the emerald like a mist of gold.
And at that hour I reached my journey's end.
The village is a gem among the hills--
Tall, towering hills that reach into the blue.
One grand old mountain-cone looms on the left
Far up toward heaven, and all around are hills.
The river winds among the leafy hills
Adown the meadowy dale; a shade of elms
And willows fringe it. In this lap of hills
Cluster the happy homes of men content
To let the great world worry as it will.
The court-house park, the broad, bloom-bordered streets,
Are avenues of maples and of elms--
Grander than Tadmor's pillared avenue--
Fair as the fabled garden of the gods.
Beautiful villas, tidy cottages,
Flower gardens, fountains, offices and shops,
All nestle in a dreamy wealth of woods.

"Kind hearts received me. All that wealth could bring--
Refinement, luxury and ease--was theirs;
But I was proud and felt my poverty,
And gladly mured myself among the books
To master 'the lawless science of the law.'
I plodded through the ponderous commentaries--
Some musty with the mildew of old age;
And these I found the better for their years,
Like olden wine in cobweb-covered flasks.
The blush of sunrise found me at my books;
The midnight cock-crow caught me reading still;
And oft my worthy master censured me:
'A time for work,' he said, 'a time for play;
Unbend the bow or else the bow will break.'
But when I wearied--needing sleep and rest--
A single word seemed whispered in my ear--
'_Beggar_,' it stung me to redoubled toil.
I trod the ofttimes mazy labyrinths
Of legal logic--mined the mountain-mass
Of precedents conflicting--found the rule,
Then branched into the exceptions; split the hair
Betwixt this case and that--ran parallels--
Traced from a 'leading case' through many tom