And rich Ohio sat startled through all those summer days;
For strange, wild men were galloping over her broad highways--
Now here, now there, now seen, now gone, now north, now east, now west,
Through river-valleys and cornland farms, sweeping away her best.

A bold ride and a long ride; but they were taken at last.
They almost reached the river by galloping hard and fast;
But the boys in blue were upon them ere ever they gained the ford,
And Morgan, Morgan the raider, laid down his terrible sword.

Well, I kept the boy till evening--kept him against his will--
But he was too weak to follow, and sat there pale and still.
When it was cool and dusky--you'll wonder to hear me tell--
But I stole down to that gully, and brought up Kentucky Belle.

I kissed the star on her forehead--my pretty gentle lass--
But I knew that she'd be happy back in the old Blue-Grass.
A suit of clothes of Conrad's, with all the money I had,
And Kentuck, pretty Kentuck, I gave to the worn-out lad.

I guided him to the southward as well as I know how;
The boy rode off with many thanks, and many a backward bow;
And then the glow it faded, and my heart began to swell,
As down the glen away she went, my lost Kentucky Belle!

When Conrad came in the evening, the moon was shining high;
Baby and I were both crying--I couldn't tell him why--
But a battered suit of rebel gray was hanging on the wall,
And a thin old horse, with drooping head, stood in Kentucky's stall.

Well, he was kind, and never once said a hard word to me;
He knew I couldn't help it--'twas all for the Tennessee,
But, after the war was over, just think what came to pass--
A letter, sir; and the two were safe back in the old Blue-Grass.

The lad had got across the border, riding Kentucky Belle;
And Kentuck, she was thriving, and fat, and hearty, and well;
He cared for her, and kept her, nor touched her with whip or spur.
Ah! we've had many horses since, but never a horse like her!

_Constance F. Woolson._

An Inventor's Wife

I remember it all so very well, the first of my married life,
That I can't believe it was years ago--it doesn't seem true at all;
Why, I just can see the little church where they made us man and wife,
And the merry glow of the first wood-fire that danced on our cottage
wall.

_We were happy?_ Yes; and we prospered, too; the house belonged
to Joe,
And then, he worked in the planing mill, and drew the best of pay;
A