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ew child. Then rested they beneath the trees, Where, through the leafy shade, In ever-changing radiance, The broken sun-light played; And spoke in words, whose simple truth Revealed the guileless soul, Till softly o'er their senses A quiet slumber stole. Lo! now a form comes glancing Along the waters blue, And moored among the lilies Lay an Indian's dark canoe. The days of ancient feud were gone. The axe was buried deep. And stilled the red man's warfare, In unawaking sleep. Why stands he then so silently, Where those fair children lie? And say, what means the flashing Of the Indian's eagle eye? He thinks him of his lonely spouse, Within her forest glade; Around her silent dwelling No children ever played. No voice arose to greet him When he at eve would come, But sadness ever hovered Around his dreary home. Oh! with those lovely rose-buds Were my lone hearth-stone blest, My richest food should cheer them, My softest furs should rest. Their kindred drive us onward, Where the setting sunbeams shine; They claim our father's heritage, Why may not these be mine? He raised the sleeping children, Oh! sad and dreary day! And o'er the dancing waters He bore them far away. He wiled their hearts' young feelings With words and actions kind, And soon the past went fading All dream-like from their mind. * * * * * Oh! brightly sped the beaming sun Along his glorious way, And feathery clouds of golden light Around his parting lay. In beauty came the holy stars, All gleaming mid the blue, It seemed as o'er the lovely earth A blessed calm they threw. A sound of grief arose On the dewy evening air, It bore the bitter anguish Of a mortal's wild despair; A wail like that which sounded Throughout Judea's land, When Herod's haughty minions Obeyed his dark command. The mourning mother wept Because her babes were not, Their forms were gone for ever From each familiar spot. Oh! had they sought the river, And sunk beneath its wave; Or had the dark recesses Of the forest been their grave. The same deep tinge of sorrow, Each surmise
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