miscellaneous poems.
135
Step out, step out, brave mariner,
Thy wonted goal is won.
And soft thy couch of yielding fur,
Come, rest—thy toils are done.
Thy wonted goal is won.
And soft thy couch of yielding fur,
Come, rest—thy toils are done.
He spoke not, looked not once around,
His fearful errand 's sped;
The death-bark touched upon the land,
They gazed upon the dead.
His fearful errand 's sped;
The death-bark touched upon the land,
They gazed upon the dead.
Revenge! revenge! the war-whoop sound!
The mystic wampum weave,
Tear the red hatchet from the ground,
Thus, shall thy warriors grieve.
The mystic wampum weave,
Tear the red hatchet from the ground,
Thus, shall thy warriors grieve.
Let burning brand and bloody blade
Avenge our chieftain's wrong;
The light turf on his corse they laid.
Then raised their battle song.
Avenge our chieftain's wrong;
The light turf on his corse they laid.
Then raised their battle song.
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Years have passed on, yet in the gloom,
The lonely settler fears
To meet that bark of death and doom,
As on its shadow steers.
The lonely settler fears
To meet that bark of death and doom,
As on its shadow steers.
