Break on thine ear-drum thick and fast, From ghosts that shiver in the blast; Then shalt thou know, and bend the knee Before the angry deity. But now attend, while I unfold The lore my brave forefathers taught : The wanton doe, the buffalo, In mirth did man the hours employ With song and dance, and shouts of joy, No death-shot peal'd upon the ear, Save when the wolf to earth was borne; Alas! that man will never learn From whom all gifts, all blessings flow, And all the hills in homage bended. He digs his brother's timeless grave: To every crystal rill of water, He gives the crimson stain of slaughter. No more for him my brow shall wear A constant, glad, approving smile ; Ah, no! my eyes must withering glare On bloody hands and deeds of guile. Henceforth shall my lost children know The piercing wind, the blinding snow; The storm shall drench, the sun shall burn, The winter freeze them, each in turn. Henceforth their feeble frames shall feel A climate like their hearts of steel." The moon that night withheld her light. Three times his course might run, And all that time the red man's eye Whose trunk his breath had blasted. The world to its foundation shook, "Twas here he stood; these lakes attest Where first Waw-kee-an's footsteps press'd. About his burning brow a cloud, Black as the raven's wing, he wore; Thick tempests wrapp'd him like a shroud, Red lightnings in his hand he bore; Like two bright suns his eyeballs shone, His voice was like the cannon's tone; And, where he breathed, the land became, Prairie and wood, one sheet of flame, Not long upon this mountain height The first and worst of storms abode, For, moving in his fearful might, Abroad the God-begotten strode, Afar, on yonder faint blue mound, In the horizon's utmost bound, At the first stride his foot he set ; The jarring world confess'd the shock. Stranger! the track of Thunder yet Remains upon the living rock. The second step, he gain'd the sand On far Superior's storm-beat strand : Then with his shout the concave rung,' As up to heaven the giant sprung On high, beside his sire to dwell; But still, of all the spots on earth, He loves the woods that gave him birth.— Such is the tale our fathers tell. WILLIS GAYLORD CLARK. THE BURIAL-PLACE AT LAUREL HILL. HERE the lamented dead in dust shall lie, Life's lingering languors o'er, its labours done; Where waving boughs, betwixt the earth and sky, Admit the farewell radiance of the sun. Here the long concourse from the murmuring town, And in this hallow'd spot, where Nature showers Whose fragrant incense from the grave shall rise. And here the impressive stone, engraved with words Which grief sententious gives to marble pale, Shall teach the heart; while waters, leaves, and birds Make cheerful music in the passing gale. Say, wherefore should we weep, and wherefore pour On scented airs the unavailing sigh While sun-bright waves are quivering to the shore, There is an emblem in this peaceful scene: Then, cold and pale, in distant vistas round, Disrobed and tuneless, all the woods will stand; While the chain'd streams are silent as the ground, As Death had numb'd them with his icy hand. Yet when the warm, soft winds shall rise in spring, So, when the tomb's dull silence finds an end, THE EARLY DEAD. "Why mourn for the young? Better that the light cloud should fade away in the morning's breath, than travel through the weary day, to gather in darkness, and end in storm."-BUL WER. If it be sad to mark the bow'd with age Sink in the halls of the remorseless tomb, Closing the changes of life's pilgrimage In the still darkness of its mouldering gloom; Oh! what a shadow o'er the heart is flung, When peals the requiem of the loved and young! They to whose bosoms, like the dawn of spring To the unfolding bud and scented rose, Comes the pure freshness age can never bring, And fills the spirit with a rich repose, How shall we lay them in their final rest? How pile the clods upon their wasting breast? Life openeth brightly to their ardent gaze; A glorious pomp sits on the gorgeous sky; Yet this is life! To mark from day to day, Sinking in waves of Death ere chill'd by Time! |