King Hendrick, Cay-en-guac-to?--_who replies?_
And Sken-an-do-ah, was thy silver hair
Brought to the dust in sorrow and despair
By pale oppression, though thy bow was strong
To guard their Thirteen Fires?--they did not spare
E'en thee, old chieftain, and thy tuneful tongue
The death-dirge of thy race in measured cadence sung.

XXXIII.

Thea-an-de-nea-gua[H] of the martial brow,
Gy-ant-wa,[I] Hon-ne-ya-was[J] where are they?
Sa-go-ye-wat-hah![K] is _he silent_ now?
No more will listening throngs his voice obey.
Like visions have the mighty passed away!
Their tears descend in rain-drops, and their sighs
Are heard in wailing winds when evening gray
Shadows the landscape, and their mournful eyes
Gleam in the misty light of moon-illumin'd skies.

[H] Brunt.

[I] Corn Planter.

[J] Farmer's Brother.

[K] Red Jacket.

XXXIV.

Gone are my tribesmen, and another race,
_Born of the foam_, disclose with plough and spade
Secrets of battle-field and burial-place;
And hunting grounds, once dark with pleasant shade,
Bask in the golden light:--but I have made
A pilgrimage from far to look once more
On scenes through which in childhood's hour I strayed,
Though robbed of might my limbs, my locks all hoar,
And on this Holy Mount mourn for the days of yore,

XXXV.

Our house is broken open at both ends
Though deeply set the posts, its timber strong--
From ruthless foes, and traitors masked as friends,
Tutored to sing a false but pleasant song
The Seneca and Mohawk guarded long
Its blood-stained doors:--the _former_ faced the sun
In his decline--the _latter_ watched a throng
Clouding the eastern hills--their tasks are done;
A game for life was played, and prize the white man won.

XXXVI.

Around me soon will bloom unfading flowers
Ye glorious Spirit Islands of the just!
No fatal axe will hew away your bowers,
Or lay the green-robed forest king in dust:
Far from the spoiler's fury, and his lust
Of boundless power will I my fathers meet
Tiaras wearing never dimm'd by rust,
And they, while airs waft music passing sweet,
To blest abodes will guide my silver-sandal'd feet.

NOTES.

_The warrior's right his scalp lock to adorn
With eagle plumes in battle