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                <title>Yellow Nineties 2.0</title>
                <title>The Yellow Book: An Illustrated Quarterly, Volume 9 April 1896</title>
                <title type="YBV9_radford_ballad"/>
                <editor>Lorraine Janzen Kooistra</editor>
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                    <date>2020</date>
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                <idno>YBV9_35po</idno>
                <publisher>Yellow Nineties 2.0</publisher>
                <pubPlace>Ryerson University Centre for Digital Humanities</pubPlace>
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               <addrLine>English Department</addrLine>
               <addrLine>350 Victoria Street,</addrLine>
               <addrLine>Toronto ON,</addrLine>
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               <addrLine>Canada</addrLine>
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                        <editor>
                            <persName>Henry Harland</persName>
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                        <author>Dollie Radford</author>
                        <title>A Ballad of Victory</title>
                        <imprint>
                            <publisher>John Lane</publisher>
                            <pubPlace>London</pubPlace>
                            <publisher>Copeland &amp; Day</publisher>
                            <pubPlace>Boston</pubPlace>
                            <date>April 1896</date>
                            <biblScope>Radford, Dollie. "A Ballad of Victory." <emph rend="italic"
                                    >The Yellow Book</emph>, vol. 9, April 1896, pp. 229-232. <emph
                                    rend="italic">Yellow Book Digital Edition</emph>, edited by Dennis
                                Denisoff and Lorraine Janzen Kooistra, 2010-2014. <emph rend="italic">Yellow Nineties 2.0</emph>,
                                Ryerson University Centre for Digital Humanities, 2020.
                                https://1890s.ca/YBV9_radford_ballad/</biblScope>
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                    verbal and visual printed material, including non-referential physical elements such as
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                    The Yellow Nineties Online publishes facsimile editions of a select collection of fin-de-
                    siècle aesthetic periodicals, together with paratexts of production and reception such as
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                    by two kinds of peer-reviewed scholarly commentary: biographies of the periodicals’
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                <date>1896</date>
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            <div n="YBV9_35po" type="poetry">
                <pb n="265"/>
                <head><title level="a">A Ballad of Victory</title></head>
                <byline>By <docAuthor><ref target="#DRA"/>Dollie Radford</docAuthor></byline>
                <lg type="stanza">
                    <l>WITH quiet step and gentle face,</l>
                    <l rend="indent">With tattered cloak, and empty hands,</l>
                    <l>She came into the market place,</l>
                    <l rend="indent"> A traveller from many lands.</l>
                </lg>
                <lg type="stanza">
                    <l>And by the costly merchandise,</l>
                    <l rend="indent">Where people thronged in eager quest,</l>
                    <l>She paused awhile, with patient eyes,</l>
                    <l rend="indent">And begged a little space for rest.</l>
                </lg>
                <lg type="stanza">
                    <l>And where the fairest blossoms lay,</l>
                    <l rend="indent">And where the rarest fruits were sent</l>
                    <l>From earth s abundant store, that day,</l>
                    <l rend="indent">She turned and smiled in her content.</l>
                </lg>
                <lg type="stanza">
                    <l>And where the meagre stall was bare,</l>
                    <l rend="indent">Where no exultant voice was heard,</l>
                    <l>Beside the barren basket, there</l>
                    <l rend="indent">She stayed to say her sweetest word.</l>
                </lg>

                <fw type="catchword">Around</fw>
                <pb n="266"/>
                <fw type="runningHead"><fw type="pageNum">230</fw> A Ballad of Victory</fw>

                <lg>
                    <l>Around her all the people came,</l>
                    <l rend="indent">Drawn by the magic of her speech,</l>
                    <l>To learn the music of her name,</l>
                    <l rend="indent">And whose the country she would reach.</l>
                </lg>

                <lg type="stanza">
                    <l>She looked upon them, as she stood,</l>
                    <l rend="indent">Until her eyes were full of tears,</l>
                    <l>She said " My way is fair and good,</l>
                    <l rend="indent">And good my service to the years."</l>
                </lg>
                <lg type="stanza">
                    <l>When for her beauty men besought</l>
                    <l rend="indent">To ease the sadness at her heart,</l>
                    <l>She murmured " You can give me nought</l>
                    <l rend="indent">But space to rest, ere I depart."</l>
                </lg>
                <lg type="stanza">
                    <l>When for her tender healing ways,</l>
                    <l rend="indent">The women begged her love again,</l>
                    <l>She answered " In these bounteous days</l>
                    <l rend="indent">I may not let my love remain."</l>
                </lg>
                <lg type="stanza">
                    <l>And when the children touched her hair,</l>
                    <l rend="indent">And put their hands about her face,</l>
                    <l>She sighed " There is so much to share,</l>
                    <l rend="indent">I well might bide a little space."</l>
                </lg>
                <lg type="stanza">
                    <l>But ere the shadows longer grew,</l>
                    <l rend="indent">Or up the sky the evening stole,</l>
                    <l>She took the lonely way she knew,</l>
                    <l rend="indent">And journeyed onward to her goal.</l>
                </lg>
                <fw type="catchword">She</fw>
                <pb n="267"/>
                <fw type="runningHead">By Dollie Radford <fw type="pageNum">231</fw></fw>

                <lg type="stanza">
                    <l>She turned away with steadfast air,</l>
                    <l rend="indent">From all their choice of fair and sweet,</l>
                    <l>And as she turned they saw how bare</l>
                    <l rend="indent">And bruised were her pilgrim feet.</l>
                </lg>
                <lg type="stanza">
                    <l>Through many a rent and tattered fold,</l>
                    <l rend="indent">As she went forward on her quest,</l>
                    <l>They saw the big wounds, deep and old,</l>
                    <l rend="indent">The cruel scars upon her breast.</l>
                </lg>
                <lg type="stanza">
                    <l>They called to her to wait, to learn</l>
                    <l rend="indent">How they would cure her pain, to dwell</l>
                    <l>With them awhile ; she did but turn</l>
                    <l rend="indent">And wave her smiling last farewell.</l>
                </lg>
                <lg type="stanza">
                    <l>And in their midst a woman rose,</l>
                    <l rend="indent">And said " I do not know her name,</l>
                    <l>Nor whose the land to which she goes,</l>
                    <l rend="indent">But well the roads by which she came.</l>
                </lg>
                <lg type="stanza">
                    <l>" Among the lonely hills they lie,</l>
                    <l rend="indent">Beyond the town's protecting wall,</l>
                    <l>Where travellers may faint and die,</l>
                    <l rend="indent">And no one hearken when they call.</l>
                </lg>
                <lg type="stanza">
                    <l>" Far up the barren heights they go,</l>
                    <l rend="indent">Worn ever deeper night and day,</l>
                    <l>By toiling feet, and tears that flow</l>
                    <l rend="indent">For some sweet flower to mark the way.</l>
                </lg>
                <fw type="catchword">" And</fw>
                <pb n="268"/>
                <fw type="runningHead"><fw type="pageNum">232</fw> A Ballad of Victory</fw>

                <lg type="stanza">
                    <l>" And down the stony slopes they lead,</l>
                    <l rend="indent">Through many a deep and dark ravine,</l>
                    <l>Where long ago it was decreed </l>
                    <l rend="indent">Nor sun nor moonlight should be seen.</l>
                </lg>
                <lg type="stanza">
                    <l>" Across the waste where no help is,</l>
                    <l rend="indent">And through the winds and blinding showers,</l>
                    <l>Among the mist-bound silences,</l>
                    <l rend="indent">And through the cold despairing hours.</l>
                </lg>
                <lg type="stanza">
                    <l>"Among the lonely, lonely hills,</l>
                    <l rend="indent">Ah me, I do not know her name,</l>
                    <l>Nor whose the bidding she fulfils,</l>
                    <l rend="indent">But well the roads by which she came."</l>
                </lg>
                <lg type="stanza">
                    <l>Then spoke a youth, who long, apart,</l>
                    <l rend="indent">Had watched the people come and go,</l>
                    <l>With clearer eyes and wiser heart,</l>
                    <l rend="indent">And cried, " Her face and name I know.</l>
                </lg>
                <lg type="stanza">
                    <l>"And well the passage of her flight,</l>
                    <l rend="indent">The starless plains she must ascend,</l>
                    <l>And well the darkness of the night,</l>
                    <l rend="indent">In which her pilgrimage shall end.</l>
                </lg>
                <lg type="stanza">
                    <l>" But stronger than the years that roll,</l>
                    <l rend="indent">Than travail past, or yet to be,</l>
                    <l>She presses to her hidden goal,</l>
                    <l rend="indent">A crownless, unknown Victory."</l>
                </lg>
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