And behind me was the shouting and the shattering of the sea.

As I sat musing, 'twas a host in dark array,
With their horses and their cannon wheeling onward to the fray,
Moving like a shadow to the fate the brave must dree,
And behind me roared the drums, rang the trumpets of the sea.


BY THE BLOCKHOUSE ON THE HILL: HELEN GRAY CONE

_A Ballad of Ninety-eight_

The soul of the fair young man sprang up
From the earth where his body lay,
And he was aware of a grim dark soul
Companioning his way.

"Who are you, brother?" the fair soul said,
"We wing together still!"
And the soul replied that was swart and red,
"The spirit of him who shot you dead
By the blockhouse on the hill.

"Your men and you on the crest were first,
And the last foe left was I,
In the crackle of rifles I dropped and cursed,
Lightning-struck as the cheer outburst
And the hot charge panted nigh.

"You saw me writhe at the side of the trench;