Page:Songs, Legends, and Ballads.djvu/175

Rh When telling of some desperate ride or close and deadly fight! But oft I noticed, in the midst of some wild martial tale, To which I lent attentive ear, my mother's cheek grow pale: She sighed to see my kindled look, and feared I might be led To follow in the wayward steps of poor old Uncle Ned. But with all the wondrous tales he told, 'twas strange I never heard Of his last fight, for of that day he never spoke a word. And yet 'twas there he lost his arm, and once he e'en confessed 'Twas there he won the glittering cross he wore upon his breast. It hung the centre of a group of Glory's emblems fair, And royal hands, he told me once, had placed the bauble there.