As the living in all nature
Felt that mighty spirit's sway,
So the sick man caught the power
And his illness wore away.
One clear morning, as Aurora
Silver-tinted all the plain,
In his weatherbeaten saddle
Billy took the trail again.
"Good by, boy," old Zach repeated,
"I'm most sure you'll never see
Any more o' them 'ere 'lusions,
Anyway, what you called 'She.'"


19

Day by day the low horizon
Spread its narrow circle round,
As if fate had drawn a barrier,
And forbade advance beyond.
Though the journey dragged on slowly,
Night time brought its sure reward,
For the added miles behind him
Stretched at length to Mingo's Ford,
Where the breeze bore from the upland
Broken fragments of the song
Of the cowboy with his cattle,
As he drove the strays along;
Where the voice of flowing water
And the treble of the birds,