Bear me to the heart of France, Tell thy name, thou trembling Field; Groan thou with our victory! Happy day, and mighty hour, When our Shepherd, in his power, Mailed and horsed, with lance and sword, To his ancestors restored Like a re-appearing Star, Like a glory from afar, First shall head the flock of war!" Alas! the impassioned minstrel did not know How he, long forced in humble walks to go, Love had he found in huts where poor men lie; The sleep that is among the lonely hills. In him the savage virtue of the Race, Glad were the vales, and every cottage-hearth; The Shepherd-lord was honoured more and more ; And, ages after he was laid in earth, "The good Lord Clifford" was the name he bore. CIII 1807 RUTH WHEN Ruth was left half desolate, And she had made a pipe of straw, 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; And, passing thus the live-long day, She grew 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: And, when America was free With hues of genius on his cheek In finest tones the Youth could speak : The moon, the glory of the sun, Had been his dearest joy. He was a lovely Youth! I guess Q 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, Such tales as told to any maid By such a Youth, in the green shade, 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 ; When daylight is gone down. He spake of plants that hourly change Their blossoms, through a boundless range Of intermingling hues ; With budding, fading, faded flowers They stand the wonder of the bowers He told of the magnolia, spread The cypress and her spire; -Of flowers that with one scarlet gleam The Youth of green savannahs spake, Of islands, that together lie "How pleasant," then he said, "it were A fisher or a hunter there, In sunshine or in shade To wander with an easy mind; And build a household fire, and find A home in every glade! What days and what bright years! Ah me! Our life were life indeed, with thee So passed in quiet bliss, And all the while," said he, "to know And then he sometimes interwove |