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XX.

• And I, the eagle of my tribe, have rush'd

• With this lorn dove.'-A sage's self-command

Had quell'd the tears from Albert's heart that gush'd;

But yet his cheek-his agitated hand

That shower'd upon the stranger of the land
No common boon, in grief but ill beguil'd
A soul that was not wont to be unmann'd;
' And stay,' he cried, dear pilgrim of the wild!

• Preserver of my old, my boon companion's child!

XXI.

• Child of a race whose name my bosom warms,
• On earth's remotest bounds how welcome here!

The Indians are distinguished both personally and by tribes by the name of particular animals whose qualities they affect to resemble either for cunning, strength, swiftness, or other qualities. As the eagle, the serpent, the fox, or bear.

• Whose mother oft, a child, has fill'd these arms,

• Young as thyself, and innocently dear,

• Whose grandsire was my early life's compeer.

• Ah happiest home of England's happy clime!

• How beautiful ev'n now thy scenes appear,

* As in the noon and sunshine of my prime!

• How gone like yesterday these thrice ten years of

time!

XXII.

• And, Julia! when thou wert like Gertrude now,

Can I forget thee, fav'rite child of yore?

Or thought I, in thy father's house when thou

Wert lightest hearted on his festive floor,

And first of all his hospitable door,

To meet and kiss me at my journey's end?

But where was I when Waldegrave was no more?

And thou didst pale thy gentle head extend,

In woes, that ev'n the tribe of desarts was thy friend!"

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He said-and strain'd unto his heart the boy:

Far differently the mute Oneyda took

His calumet of peace, and cup of joy;

As monumental bronze unchang'd his look:

A soul that pity touch'd, but never shook:
Train'd, from his tree-rock'd cradle to his bier,
The fierce extremes of good and ill to brook
Impassive-fearing but the shame of fear-

A stoic of the woods-a man without a tear.

* Calumet of peace. The calumet is the Indian name for the ornamented pipe of friendship, which they smoke as a pledge of amity.

Tree-rock'd cradle. The Indian mothers suspend their children in their cradles from the boughs of trees, and let them be rocked by the wind.

XXIV.

Yet deem not goodness on the savage stock

Of Outalissi's heart disdain'd to grow;

As lives the oak unwither'd on the rock

By storms above, and barrenness below:

He scorn'd his own, who felt another's woe:

And ere the wolf-skin on his back he flung,

Or laced his mocasins, in act to go,

A song of parting to the boy he sung,

Who slept on Albert's couch, nor heard his friendly

tongue.

XXV.

• Sleep, wearied one! and in the dreaming land • Shouldst thou to-morrow with thy mother meet,

• Oh! tell her spirit, that the white man's hand

' Hath pluck'd the thorns of sorrow from thy feet;

• While I in lonely wilderness shall greet
• Thy little foot prints-or by traces know

The fountain, where at noon I thought it sweet

• To feed thee with the quarry of my bow,

• And pour'd the lotus-horn, or slew the mountain roe.

XXVI.

Adieu! sweet scion of the rising sun!

• But should affliction's storms thy blossom mock,

• Then come again-my own adopted one!

• And I will graft thee on a noble stock:

• The crocodile, the condor of the rock,

• Shall be the pastime of thy sylvan wars;
• And I will teach thee, in the battle's-shock,

8 From a flower shaped like a horn, which Chateaubriant presumes to be of the lotus kind, the Indians in their travels through the desart often find a draught of dew purer than any other water,

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