This type of sovereignty;

And Newport long confronted him
With arguments profound,

To make him understand that kings
Must kneel when they are crown'd.
But still the monarch could not see
The force of what he said,
And to his labor'd argument
He gravely shook his head.

His iron knee had never learn'd

To any power to bow,

And 'twas not all the kings on earth

Could make him bend it now.

But glancing round upon his men,
Unbending still he stood, 23
Upright in native dignity,

Like an old oak of the wood.
This trouble vex'd exceedingly
The captain of the sea,
Who tried by every art to gain
Some slight bend of the knee,
That he on his return might tell

King James, and tell him true,
That Powhatan unto the crown

Had paid the homage due.

But all in vain; the more he strove,

The firmer stood the king:

Example or persuasive skill

Could no compliance bring,

Till on his shoulders both his hands
With gentle force he laid,

And pressing forward, thought he saw
The monarch bend his head.

'It is enough,' the captain said;

To bow the head, or knee,

'With equal honor vindicates
'The type of sovereignty :'
And then upon that lofty brow
He placed the glittering thing,

And in King James's stead pronounced
A blessing on the king.

END OF CANTO FIFTH.

CANTO SIXTH.

I.

THE warm spring came, and the opening flower On the sloping hill was seen;

And summer breathed on the waking woods,

And dress'd them in their green;

The wild-bird in the branches sung,

The wild-deer fed below;

Far up the river side appear'd

The hunter with his bow;

And on the fresh and sunny field,

Hard toiling through the day,
The weary colonist was out
By the groves of Paspahey.
Ship after ship came o'er the sea,

Laden with fresh supplies,

And men by hundreds came to join

This new world's enterprise;

And up and down the noble James
Were settlements begun,

And many an opening in the woods
Look'd out upon the sun.

The busy tradesman ope'd his store
Of goods and wares for sale,
And blithely by the barnyard sang
The milkmaid with her pail;
The stout mechanic in his shop
Whistled the hours away,
And sturdily his labor plied
Through the long summer day.
With boding and uneasy mind
The thoughtful Indian view'd
The fatal signs of English power
Spread o'er his solitude;

And oft he brooded many a scheme,

And much he long'd to see

A withering blight or death-blow given

To this wide-spreading tree.

II.

At evening sat King Powhatan

Beside his daughter fair,

To watch the far-off lightning's flash,

And breathe the cooling air:

"Twas by the door of his summer lodge;

His guards stood round in sight,

The moon between the flying clouds

Sent down a paly light,

When Opechancanough arrived,
With an air of kingly pride,

And greeting great King Powhatan,
Sat thoughtful by his side.

III.

'What tidings, Opechancanough?' Said the monarch to his guest;

Has the tree of these pale-faces spread

'So wide thou canst not rest?

'And hast thou come in sadness now

To tell thy thoughts to me,

'And to pray the spirit of yonder fires

To blast the pale-face tree?'

IV.

Then spoke Pamunky's king, and said,

With half triumphant mein,

'True, strongly grows the pale-face tree,

'Its boughs are fresh and green;

'But I have found a secret fire,

"That will at my bidding go,

'And, creeping through the pale-face tree,

'Lay its tall branches low.

'My priest a subtle poison keeps,

'From deadly weeds distill'd;