Bade him farewel with many a bawl,
And sent their love to Mary Jones.

Victory!

He wav'd his hat, and turn'd away,
When loud the cry of children rose;
"Abner, good bye!" they stopt their play;
"There goes poor Bayard! there he goes!"

Half choak'd with joy, with love, and pride,
He now with dainty clover fed him,
Now took a short triumphant ride,
And then again got down and led him.

And hobbling onward up the hill,
The widow's house was full in sight,
He pull'd the bridle harder still,
"Come on, we shan't be there to-night."

Victory!

She met them with a smile so sweet,
The stable-door was open thrown;
The blind horse lifted high his feet,
And loudly snorting, laid him down.

O Victory! from that stock of laurels
You keep so snug for camps and thrones,
Spare us _one twig_ from all their quarrels