A TALE OF EARLY COLORADO.


My simple story is of those times ere the magic power of steam
First whirled the traveller o'er the plains with the swiftness of
a dream,
Reducing to a few days' time the journey of many a week,
That fell of old to the miner's lot ere he "sighted" tall Pikes
Peak.

'Neath liquid sunshine filling the air, 'mid masses of wild
flowers gay,
A prairie waggon followed the track that led o'er the plains
away;
And most of those 'neath its canvas roof were of lawless type and
rude--
Miners, broad-chested and strongly built, a reckless,
gold-seeking brood.

Yet two of the number surely seemed most strangely out of place,
A girl with fragile, graceful form, shy look, and beauteous face,
One who had wrought out the old, old tale, left her home and
friends for aye,
Braved family frowns and strangers' smiles, love's promptings to
obey.

And the lover husband at her side no miner rough was he,
If we may believe the shapely hands as a woman's fair to see;
But his tall, lithe form, so strongly knit, firm mouth and look
of pride,