XII
OF ALEXANDER CRUMMELL
Then from the Dawn it seemed there came, but faint
As from beyond the limit of the world,
Like the last echo born of a great cry,
Sounds, as if some fair city were one voice
Around a king returning from his wars.
Tennyson.
![\relative c'' {
\key f \major \time 2/4
\numericTimeSignature
\override Score.BarNumber #'break-visibility = #'#(#f #f #f)
\autoBeamOff \stemUp
<< { \autoBeamOff
a8 f4\fermata a8
f8. f16 d16[ c8.]
f16 f f f } \\
{ \autoBeamOff
a8 f4_\fermata a8
f8. f16 d16[ c8.]
f16 f f f } >>
<f a>16 <a c> <a c>8
<a c>2
<< { \autoBeamOff
c8 a4\fermata c8
f,8. f16 d16[ c8.] } \\
{ \autoBeamOff
c'8 a4_\fermata c8
f,8. f16 d16[ c8.] } >>
}](http://upload.wikimedia.org/score/e/i/ei16sqgxvj4nn3ydfl3fntcmmic8gjh/ei16sqgx.png)
THIS is the history of a human heart,—the tale of a black boy who many long years ago began to struggle with life that he might know the world and know himself. Three temptations he met on those dark dunes that lay gray and dismal before the wonder-eyes of the child: the temptation of Hate, that stood out against the red dawn; the temptation of Despair, that darkened noonday; and the temptation of Doubt, that ever steals along with twilight. Above all, you must hear of the vales he
