Word of gloom from the war, one day:
Johnston pressed at the front they say,
Little Giffen was up and away!
A tear, his first, as he bade good-by,
Dimmed the glint of his steel-blue eye;
"I'll write, if spared 1 " there was news of the fight But none of Giffen! He did not write! I sometimes fancy that were I king Of the princely knights of Golden Ring, With the song of the minstrel in mine ear And the tender legend that trembles here, I d give the best on his bended knee, The whitest soul of my chivalry, For Little Giffen of Tennessee.
THE VIRGINIANS OF THE VALLEY
The knightliest of the knightly race, That since the days of old, Have kept the lamp of chivalry Alight in hearts of gold. The kindliest of the kindly band That, rarely hating ease, Yet rode with Spotswood round the land, With Raleigh around the seas. Who climbed the blue embattled hills Against embattled foes, And planted there, in valleys fair, The lily and the rose!
