|CAPT. SMITH AND POCAHONTAS.|
The night hung o'er Virginia's forest wild,
Stately with beauty unsurpassed before
Shone the full moon serenely; and the wind
As it roused slumb'ring leaflets from their
Wakens alike the violet wet with dew,
And fans the lily on the water's breast,
Bidding the nodding petals sleep no more.
The crackling branches told a fire was stirred;
Its light wad dim; yet, round it sat huge forms,
Like lofty oaks that near the watchers stood
With giant strength, spectators dumb, yet
With tenderest sympathy. The Red man
With plumage gorgeous, and bracelet bright,
With cheek besmeared with paint, and visage
In solemn conference debated now.
Murdering Captain Smith. The forest still,
With a thrill echoed angrily their loud and
The croaking of the frog had the exactness
of a dirge;73And when clouds from the moon were swept,
A prisoner bound in chains, with wan and
death-like face was seen to pray.
An Indian maid, with slender form in rustic
And crowned with a wealth of raven ringlets,
Heard him say in tongue familiar, these
words of deep woe:
"Alone, alone, I die.
No friend or much-loved face is here to-night
To chase these visions dark from out my
That blind my quiv'ring eye.
Alas! could I but live another year,
Much of the things I dream would I know
"How shines the moon to-night?
Divinely! with a grace I've seen before.
Ay--sick indeed this heart, these temples
That could forget thy light!
Thou'll be the torch to light my light my
spirit, queen,74From this bleak world to visions now unseen.
"And this is life! Ay, life!
Anxiety, dull care, a restless pain,
That rouses, thrills, and sickens sould and
A never-ending strife
'Twixt the spirit and the flesh for right,
And thus we ripen in a world of night,
"But see! they hasten now,
Their consultation o'er, I soon will die;
On yonder block of stone my head will
And crushed will be my brow.
Farewell, dear home and loved ones far
Farewell to her who taught me first to
"They come,--Alas! so soon,
To die, O God! among this dusky crew,
Where there is neither friend nor kinsmen true.
Shine on, O friendly moon!
Thine is the only white face that dost see75This savage crowd that seek to murder
"My head is on the stone,
The chief with huge club bends to strike
A moment longer and no more I'll know,
But list! I hear a moan.
Who weeps for me and mourns that I
Who wastes on Smith a tear, or e'en a
"What ! the blow does not descend!
Whose form is this that clingest to mine
What means these tears and that heart-
An angel heaven dost send
To plead my cause and save this worthless
That seems to love adventure, gloom and
"O, Pocahontas, brave!
Thou beaut'ous queen! thou givest thy
love to me,
As did Dian, unasked,--an offering free.76Cursed be the treach'rous knave,
Who would forget his manhood and
Thy noble soul, or with they affections toy.
"Long livest thou, sweet maid!
My bosom glows with gratitude and love,
That thou wast sent as from the choir
This reckless being to save.
How sweet life seems when snatched from
death and pain,
O God of love! 'tis true, I'm free again."