POEMS.
101
"Thou from thy distant land, with gentle speech
And patient look, hath wandered here alone,
The red man in his forest wild to teach,
And win him to a worship not his own.
And patient look, hath wandered here alone,
The red man in his forest wild to teach,
And win him to a worship not his own.
"And thou hast taught me from thy holy book
Things that do make me scorn the life I've led:
His daughter's change Manhatta cannot brook,
Alas! his wrath will fall upon thy head.
Things that do make me scorn the life I've led:
His daughter's change Manhatta cannot brook,
Alas! his wrath will fall upon thy head.
"They say thou hast bewitch'd me, turn'd my heart
From all it used to love in days of yore;
That in their rites I cease to take a part,
And join them in their festive sports no more.
From all it used to love in days of yore;
That in their rites I cease to take a part,
And join them in their festive sports no more.
"And they will kill thee, father! aye, this night;
Perchance this hour! Oh! fly ere yet too late!
See! my canoe rides o'er the waters bright:
Swift shall it bear thee from thy cruel fate.
Perchance this hour! Oh! fly ere yet too late!
See! my canoe rides o'er the waters bright:
Swift shall it bear thee from thy cruel fate.
"Oh! fare thee well! thou must no longer stay."
But calmly did the missionary stand—
"Weep not, my child: I will not flee away,
Though bonds and cruel torture be at hand!"
But calmly did the missionary stand—
"Weep not, my child: I will not flee away,
Though bonds and cruel torture be at hand!"
"Father, 'tis madness! they are rushing on!
Quick to the bark ere they can gain the spot.
Alas! it is too late! one hope hath gone.
They've tracked thee here, yet Nairla leaves thee not."
Quick to the bark ere they can gain the spot.
Alas! it is too late! one hope hath gone.
They've tracked thee here, yet Nairla leaves thee not."
