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Draw rein and rest a moment here in this cool vale of

peace; The race half-run, the goal half-won, half won the sure

release! To right and left are flowery fields, and brooks go sing

ing down To mock the sober folk who still are prisoned in the

town. Now to the trail again, dear heart; my arm and blade

are true, And on some plain ere night descend I'll break a lance

for you!

O sweetheart, it is good to find the pathway shining

clear! The road is broad, the hope is sure, and you are near

and dear! So loose the rein and cheer the steed and let us race

away To seek the lands that lie beyond the borders of To-day. Oh, we shall hear at last, my heart, a cheering welcome

cried As o'er a clattering drawbridge through the Gate of

Dreams we ride!

THE PORT OF MISSING MEN

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