Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1906-04-15

iaY ever a lucky Qay. AldS' that the SOOd
Dame Ermyntrude is no longer with us to see
II donei The old hound must us down,
Nigel and hear its bay upon my own heels;
but my heart will rejoice that before the end
| NAV call you son. Give me your hand,
Mary. and yours, Nigel. Now, take an old
mans blessing, and may God keep and guard
YOU both, and give you your desert, tor l
believe on my soul that in all this broad land
: there dwells no nobler man nor any woman
more fitted to be his mattel
There let us leave them, their hearts full
= # gentle Joy, the golden future of hope and
promise stretching out before their youthful
ewes Alas for those green spring dreamingsi
How often do they fade and wither until they
all and rot, a dreary sight, by the wayside OF
ilfet But here by Gods blessing, 1t was not
,o for they burgeoned and they grew, ever
'.irer and more noble, until the whole wide
world might marvel at the beauty OF it.
. 1t has been told elsewhere how as the years
passed Nigel's name rose higher in honor; but
still Mary's would keep pace with it, each
helping and sustaining the other upon an ever
higher path. In many lands did Nigel carve his
fame, and ever as he returned, spent and weary
from his work, he drank fresh strength and IRE
and craving for honor from her who glor1hed
MS home. At Twynham Castle they dwelled
Tor many years, beloved and honored by all.
Then in the fulness of time they came back
70 the Tilford Manor-house and spent their
happy healthy age amid those heather downs
where Nigel had passed his first lusty youth,
also came Awkward when he had left the =" Pied
Merlin" where for many year he sold ale to
he men of the forest.
But the years pass; the old wheel turns and
ever the thread runs out. The wise and the
GOOD, the noble and the brave, they come from
she darkness, and into the darkness they 60
whence, whittier, and why, who may say!
Here is the slope of Hindhead. The fern still
CLOVIS russell in November, the heather still
burns red in July but where now is the Manor
Of Cosford? Where, but for few scattered
gray stones, is the mighty pile of Waverley?
And yet even gnawing Time has not eaten
all things away. Walk with me toward
Guildford, reader upon the busy highway.
Here, where the high green mound rises before
u.s. mark yonder roohess shrine which still
stands four-square to the winds. 1t is Saint
Catharine's, where Nigel and Mary plighted
their faith. Below lies the winding river and
over wonder you still see the dark Chantry
woods which mount up to the bare summit, on
which, rooted and whole, stands that Chapel
of the Martyr where the comrades beat off
the archers of the crooked Lord of Stafford.
Down yonder the TANKS of the long chalk
hills one traces the road by which they made
their Journey to the wars. And now turn
hither to the north down this sunken winding
path 1t is all unchanged since Nigels day
Here is the Church of Compton Pass under
the aged and crumbling arch Before the steps
Of that ancient altar, unrecorded and unbrass-
ed lies the dust of Nigel and of Mary. Near
them is that of Maude their daughter, and of
Alleyne Edricson, whose spouse she was;
their children and children's children
wing by their side. Here too, near the old
yew in the churchyard is the little mound
which marks where Samkin Awkward went
pack to that good soil from which he sprang.
= So lie the dead leaves; but they and such as
they nourish forever that great old trunk of
England which still sheds forth another crop
and another; each as strong and as fair the
last The body may lie in moldering chancel
or in crumbling vault, but the rumor of noble
lives the record of valor and truth, can never
die, but lives on in the soul of the people. Our
own work lies ready to our hands; and yet our
strength may be the greater and our faith the
firmer if spare hour from present tolls
10 look back upon the women who were gentle
and strong, or the men who loved honor more
than life, on this green stage of England
where for few short years we play our little
TART. THE END
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