New-York tribune., 1882-08-13
THE POSTTLLION or NAGOLD.

A stranger came to Nagold town
One stormy winters day,
A queer old man with vsage brown
And hair all -treaked with gray
A man of most forblddng ways;
His glance was shrcwd and cold,
And all his looks and actions days
OF hard denial told.
He came at noon-the worthy dame
Who kept the inn" The Bear
All yainiy wondered whence he came,
Or what had brought hITn there.
He sat apart and ate his bread
And drank his pint OF wine.
- want coach" at length ne said,
" At three, for Adlersteln"
" For Adlcrstein !" tho dame replied
:" lis three good hours away;
The noun ain streams are deep and WIDE,
And waning Is the dav:
BY daylight there Is naught to fear
Our hearth j. warm and bright;
1Ouil find good cheer ana comfort mere,
Stay then and rest Tonight"
Hal What care for rain and sleet,
And perlls you fOrbode.
v nth driver sure and horses llcct
do net fear he road"
The worthy hostess sighed An, me!
III not entrcai him moro"
And. as the village clock struck three
The coach was III the door
The driver was Postillion Dorm,
a lusty youth and true
" hose NOES upon the bugle-hOrn
Were known the Schwarzwad through;
Aud village maldcnS U2ed TO cast
Admlrlng glanccs down
Nhcncver he. with chcery blast,
C2mo uashlng int0 town.
Full half an hour through mud and rain
Inc team hau dashed along,
And Dorm had tired and trlcd again,
BY merry jest ANA song,
Ana frequent NOr. of cheer. 10 break
ne silence 80 ioflorn-
Twas vain. AZ least" thought he, ''tPll wake
The ech0cs with the horn.'
Then first a martill air he played
An air that he had learned
In days when armies stood arrayed
And blazing camp-lires burned
An air that told of battles call,
Ot carnage fierce and hot.
IE~ stranger sat unmOVcd through all
a seemed 10 hear Ii not
"Ahaw quoth Dorm, " III try again."
Then, midst the rain and slect.
He warbled forth a tender strain,
A iOve-sOng soft and sweet.
Through wind-tOssed pines The plalntye lay
lis mumunng echoes woke;
Yet, when It's music died away,
No word the stranger spoke.
Another hour in silence passed.
Each spectral bush and tree
Seemed mocking DOrTs despair. AT last
III try once more" sad he
Then, md the blustling wintry gale,
In choIais grand and clear,
The " Lobe den Herrn, melHe SecIe 2"
Broke OH the strangers ear.
It's solemn notes the echoes woke
Through dim-lit forest aisleS
III sWee, and pleading tones that spoke
OF Heaven ana angels smiles.
Ger every lonely mountain track
It's sOitcned cadence stole,
Ard distant Mllsldcs lnurmured back
"Oh! love the Lord, my SOul.'
Then to the strau gers rapturcd gaze
At that sweet hymns command
Came back he scenes of bOyhOOd's days
Passed IN that ~uanlan land-
lis mothers love, MS fathers care,
And all the peace benign
That hOyercd round The nearthstOne there
Long since at Adlerstcin.
lie saw the tire beneath whose shade
He used to SIT and sing
And where he'd pluckcd IN sunny glade
Fresh VlOiets III spring
The cross-tpped spire, and standing near,
The church-yar on the knoll,
Ana ever sounding in his ear,
On love the Lord, my SOUL"
The tears burst forth-he mrekly bowed
His head upon his hand;
God bless you now," he sobbcd aloud,
"Thls Is my natlHc land.
Pve wandered from II far abroad
O'er mountain seas and plain,
NJ soul, indeed, doth love the Lord
Who brings me home again
Postilion Dorm has now grown old,
Grandchildren round him play,
And he iul oft, / wOt. has told
How well he played that day.
Let's hope. in age. for memOrys sake
Some brave Posuili0n Dorm
For lis, in turn, such notes may wake
Upon his buglc horn.
GEORGE l.. CATLIN.
!, s. Consulate Stuttgart June %, tSS2.