Feel that ye like them would wake,
Like them the yoke of bondage break,
Nor leave a battle-blade undrawn,
Though every hill a sepulchre should yawn--
Say, have not ye one line for those,
One brother-line to spare,
Who rose but as your Fathers rose,
And dared as ye would dare?

XIX.

Alas! for them--their day is o'er,
Their fires are out from hill and shore;
No more for them the wild deer bounds,
The plough is on their hunting grounds;
The pale man's axe rings through their woods,
The pale man's sail skims o'er their floods,
Their pleasant springs are dry;
Their children--look, by power oppressed,
Beyond the mountains of the west,
Their children go--to die.

XX.

O doubly lost! oblivion's shadows close
Around their triumphs and their woes.
On other realms, whose suns have set,
Reflected radiance lingers yet;
There sage and bard have shed a light
That never shall go down in night;
There time-crowned columns stand on high,
To tell of them who cannot die;
Even we, who then were nothing, kneel
In homage there, and join earth's general peal.
But the doomed Indian leaves behind no trace,
To save his own, or serve another race;
With his frail breath his power has passed away,
His deeds, his thoughts are buried with his clay;
Nor lofty pile, nor glowing page
Shall link him to a future age,
Or give him with the past a rank:
His heraldry is but a broken bow,
His history but a tale of wrong and wo,
His very name must be a blank.

XXI.

Cold, with the beast he slew, he sleeps;
O'er him no filial spirit weeps;
No crowds throng round, no anthem-notes ascend,
To bless his coming and embalm his end;
Even that he lived, is for his conqueror's tongue,
By foes alone his death-song must be sung;
No chronicles but theirs shall tell
His mournful doom to future times;
May these upon his virtues dwell,
And in his fate forget his crimes.

XXII.

Peace to the mingling dead!
Beneath the turf we tread,
Chief, Pilgrim, Patriot sleep--
All gone! how changed! and yet the same,
As when faith's herald bark first came
In sorrow o'er the deep.
Still from his noonday height,
The sun looks down in light;
Along th