Along my track of storm and stress,
    And it is plain to trace,
I look back from the loneliness
    And the depth of my disgrace.
’Twas fate and only fate I know,
    But all mistakes are plain,
’Tis sadder than the afterglow,
    More dreary than the rain.

But still there lies a patch of sun
    That ne’er will come again,
Those golden days when I was one
    Of Nature’s gentlemen.
And if there is a memory
    Could break me down at last,
It sure would be the thought of this,
    The sunshine in the past.

But ’spite of sunshine on the track—
    And well the sun might shine—
My heart grows hard when I look back
    From these dark days of mine.
A nobler child was never born
    In all the Southern land—
The slave of selfish ignorance
    That could not understand.

Oh, I had lived for many years
    In a world of my ideal,
With no false laughter, no false tears,
    And it seemed very real.
But I was wakened from my dreams,
    And learnt with hardening eyes
A world of selfish treachery,
    Of paltry shame and lies.

I left the truest friends on earth
    Who did not need my aid,
And worked for those who were not worth
    The sacrifice I made.
And while I blindly strove to raise
    The coward and the clown,
They sneaked behind by shady ways
    And tore my palace down.

But let those faithless friends of mine
    Who’d think of me with scorn,
Remember that for many years
    A heavy load I’ve borne.
And my true friends when all is done,
    And my sad soul is gone,
Will think of battles I have won
    When I lead rivals on.

And though from spite and worldly things
    I well should be exempt,
For little men and paltry men
    I scarce can feel contempt.
They followed me with flattery
    In the days when I was brave—
But for those who have been true to me
    I’ll strike back from the grave!