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Beneath her Father's roof, alone
She seemed to live; her thoughts her own ;
Herself her own delight :
Pleased with herself, nor sad nor gay,
She passed her time; and in this way
Grew up to Woman's height.

There came a Youth from Georgia's shore-
A military Casque he wore
With splendid feathers drest;
He brought them from the Cherokees;
The feathers nodded in the breeze,
And made a gallant crest.

From Indian blood you deem him sprung:
Ah no! he spake the English tongue,
And bore a Soldier's name;
And, when America was free
From battle and from jeopardy,

He 'cross the ocean came.

With hues of genius on his cheek
In finest tones the Youth could speak.

-While he was yet a Boy.
The moon, the glory of the sun,
And streams that murmur as they ruit,
Had been his dearest joy.

He was a lovely Youth! I guess.
The panther in the wilderness
Was not so fair as he ;
And when he chose to sport and play,
No dolphin ever was so gay
Upon the tropic sea.

Among the Indians he had fought;
And with him many tales he brought
Of pleasure and of fear;
Such tales as, told to any

Maid
By such a Youth, in the green shade,
Were perilous to hear.

He told of Girls, a happy rout!
Who quit their fold with dance and shout,
Their pleasant Indian Town
To gather strawberries all day long,
Returning with a choral song
When day-light is gone down.

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He spake of plants divine and strange
That
every

hour their blossoms change,
Ten thousand lovely hues !
With budding, fading, faded flowers
They stand the wonder of the bowers
From morn to evening dews.

Of march and ambush, siege and fight,
Then did he tell ;, and with delight
The heart of Ruth would ache;
Wild histories they were, and dear :
But 'twas a thing of heaven to hear
When of himself he spake!

Sometimes most earnestly he said ;
"O Ruth! I have been worse than dead :
False thoughts, thoughts bold and vain,
Encompassed me on every side
When I, in confidence and pride,
Had crossed the Atlantic Main.

“ It was a fresh and glorious world,
A banner bright that was unfurled
Before me suddenly:
I looked

upon

those hills and plains, And seemed as if let loose from chains To live at liberty.

“ But wherefore speak of this ? for now,
Sweet Ruth! with thee, I know not how,
I feel my spirit burn-
Even as the east when day comes forth;
And to the west, and south, and north,
The morning doth return.

“ It is a purer, better mind:
O Maiden innocent and kind,
What sights I might have seen !".
Even now upon my eyes they break !
--And he again began to speak
Of Lands where he had been.

He told of the Magnolia*, spread
High as a cloud, high over head !
The Cypress and her spire,
Of flowerst that with one scarlet gleam
Cover a hundred leagues, and seem
To set the hills on fire.

* Magnolia grandiflora.

† The splendid appearance of these scarlet flowers, which are scattered with such profusion over the Hills in the Southern parts of North America, is frequently mentioned by Bartram in bis Travels.

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