Weary they looked and jaded, riding through night and through day;
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Pushing on east to the river, many long miles away,
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To the border strip where Virginia runs up into the West,
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And fording the Upper Ohio before they could stop to rest.
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On like the wind they hurried, and Morgan rode in advance;
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Bright were his eyes like live coals, as he gave me a sideways glance.
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And I was just breathing freely, after my choking pain,
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When the last one of the troopers suddenly drew his rein.
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Frightened I was to death, sir; I scarce dared look in his face,
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As he asked for a drink of water, and glanced around the place.
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I gave him a cup, and he smiled—'twas only a boy, you see;
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Faint and worn, with dim blue eyes; and he'd sailed on the Tennessee.
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Only sixteen he was, sir—a fond mother's only son—
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Off and away with Morgan before his life had begun!
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The damp drops stood on his temples; drawn was the boyish mouth;
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And I thought me of the mother waiting down in the South.
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Oh! pluck was he to the backbone, and clear grit through and through;
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Boasted and bragged like a trooper; but the big words wouldn't do;—
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The boy was dying, sir, dying as plain as plain could be,
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Worn out by his ride with Morgan up from the Tennessee.
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But when I told the laddie that I too was from the South,
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Water came in his dim eyes, and quivers around his mouth.
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"Do you know the Blue-Grass country?" he wistful began to say;
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Then swayed like a willow sapling, and fainted dead away.
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I had him into the log house, and worked and brought him to;
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I fed him, and I coaxed him, as I thought his mother'd do;
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And when the lad got better, and the noise in his head was gone,
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Morgan's men—were miles; away, galloping, galloping on.
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"Oh, I must go," he muttered; "I must be up and away!
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Morgan—Morgan is waiting for me; Oh, what will Morgan say?"
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But I heard a sound of tramping and kept him back from the door—
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The ringing sound of horses' hoofs that I had heard before.
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And on, on, came the soldiers—the Michigan cavalry—
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And fast they rode, and black they looked, galloping rapidly—
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They had followed hard on Morgan's track; they had followed day and night;
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But of Morgan and Morgan's raiders they had never caught a sight.
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And rich Ohio sat startled through all those summer days;
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For strange, wild men were galloping over her broad highways—
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Now here, now there, now seen, now gone, now north, now east, now west,
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Through river-valleys and cornland farms, sweeping away her best.
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A bold ride and a long ride; but they were taken at last.
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They almost reached the river by galloping hard and fast;
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But the boys in blue were upon them ere ever they gained the ford,
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And Morgan, Morgan the raider, laid down his terrible sword.
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Well, I kept the boy till evening—kept him against his will—
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But he was too weak to follow, and sat there pale and still.
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When it was cool and dusky—you'll wonder to hear me tell—
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But I stole down to that gully, and brought up Kentucky Belle.
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I kissed the star on her forehead—my pretty gentle lass—
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But I knew that she'd be happy back in the old Blue-Grass.
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A suit of clothes of Conrad's, with all the money I had,
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And Kentuck, pretty Kentuck, I gave to the worn-out lad.
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I guided him to the southward as well as I know how;
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The boy rode off with many thanks, and many a backward bow;
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And then the glow it faded, and my heart began to swell,
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As down the glen away she went, my lost Kentucky Belle!
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When Conrad came in the evening, the moon was shining high;
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Baby and I were both crying—I couldn't tell him why—
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But a battered suit of rebel gray was hanging on the wall,
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And a thin old horse, with drooping head, stood in Kentucky's stall.
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Well, he was kind, and never once said a hard word to me;
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He knew I couldn't help it—'twas all for the Tennessee,
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