VIII.

It was in truth a momentary pang;

Yet how comprising myriad shapes of woe!

First when in Gertrude's ear the summons rang,

A husband to the battle doom'd to go!

Nay meet not thou, (she cries) thy kindred foe! But peaceful let us seek fair England's strand!' Ah, Gertrude! thy beloved heart, I know 'Would feel like mine, the stigmatizing brand!

• Could I forsake the cause of freedom's holy band!

IX.

'But shame-but flight-a recreant's name to prove,

To hide in exile ignominious fears;

Say, ev'n if this I brook'd, the public love

Thy father's bosom to his home endears

:

And how could I his few remaining years, My Gertrude, sever from so dear a child?' So, day by day, her boding heart he cheers; At last that heart to hope is half beguil❜d,

And pale through tears suppress'd the mournful beauty smil❜d.

X.

Night came, and in their lighted bow'r, full late,

-

The joy of converse had endur'd-when, hark!
Abrupt and loud a summons shook their gate;
And heedless of the dog's obstrep'rous bark,
A form has rush'd amidst them from the dark,
And spread his arms, and fell upon the floor :
Of aged strength his limbs retain'd the mark;
But desolate he look'd, and famish'd poor,

As ever shipwreck'd wretch lone left on desert shore.

XI.

Upris'n, each wond'ring brow is knit and arch'd:
A spirit from the dead they deem him first:

To speak he tries; but quiv'ring, pale, and parch'd,
From lips, as by some pow'rless dream accurs'd,
Emotions unintelligible burst;

And long his filmed eye is red and dim ;

At length the pity-proffer'd cup his thirst

Had half assuag'd, and nerv'd his shuddering limb,

When Albert's hand he grasp'd ; —but Albert knew not him

XII.

'And hast thou then forgot,' (he cried forlorn, And ey'd the group with half indignant air,) 'Oh! hast thou, Christian chief, forgot the morn When I with thee the cup of peace did share? 'Then stately was this head, and dark this hair, That now is white as Appalachia's snow;

*

'But, if the weight of fifteen years' despair,

And age hath bow'd me, and the tort'ring foe,

Bring me my boy-and he will his deliverer

know!'

XIII.

It was not long, with eyes and heart of flame,
Ere Henry to his lov'd Oneyda flew:

'Bless thee, my guide!'-but, backward, as he came, The chief his old bewilder'd head withdrew,

And grasp'd his arm, and look'd and look'd him through.

'Twas strange-nor could the group a smile controulThe long the doubtful scrutiny to view:

At last delight o'er all his features stole,

It is my own,' he cried, and clasp'd him to his soul.

XIV.

• Yes! thou recall'st my pride of years, for then
The bowstring of my spirit was not slack,
When, spite of woods, and floods, and ambush'd men,
I bore thee like the quiver on my back,

Fleet as the whirlwind hurries on the rack;

• Nor foeman then, nor cougar's crouch I fear'd,13 For I was strong as mountain cataract :

And dost thou not remember how we cheer'd,

Upon the last hill-top, when white men's huts appear'd?

XV.

Then welcome be my death-song, and my death!
• Since I have seen thee, and again embrac’d.'
And longer had he spent his toil-worn breath;
But with affectionate and eager haste,
Was every arm outstretch'd around their guest,
To welcome and to bless his aged head.
Soon was the hospitable banquet plac'd;

And Gertrude's lovely hands a balsam shed
On wounds with fever'd joy that more profusely bled.

13 Cougar, the American tyger.

XVI.

• But this is not a time,'-he started up,

And smote his breast with woe-denouncing hand— This is no time to fill the joyous cup,

The Mammoth comes, - the foe,· the Monster

Brandt, 14

• With all his howling desolating band;

These eyes have seen their blade, and burning pine Awake at once, and silence half your

land.

Red is the cup they drink; but not with wine : 'Awake, and watch to-night, or see no morning

shine!

XVII.

Scorning to wield the hatchet for his bribe,

''Gainst Brandt himself I went to battle forth :

'Accursed Brandt! he left of all my tribe

'Nor man, nor child, nor thing of living birth :

'No! not the dog, that watch'd my household hearth,

Escap'd, that night of blood, upon our plains!

All perish'd!—I alone am left on earth!

To whom nor relative nor blood remains,

No!-not a kindred drop that runs in human veins !

14 Brandt was the leader of those Mohawks, and other savages, who laid waste this part of Pennsylvania.-Vide the note at the end of this poem.