Poems [14]
fly, And wind-rows of pale warriors die!-- Oh! never was the sun's bright eye Looked from his hill-tops in the sky Upon a field so glorious!
* * * * * *
They're gone--again the red-men rally; With dance and song the woods resound: The hatchet's buried in the valley; No foe profanes our hunting-ground! The green leaves on the blithe boughs quiver, The verdant hills with song-birds ring, While our bark-canoes the river Skim like swallows on the wing. Mirth pervades the land and water, Free from famine, sword, and slaughter.
* * * * * *
Let us, by this gentle river, Blunt the axe and break the quiver, While, as leaves upon the spray, Peaceful flow our cares away.
* * * * * *
Yet, alas! the hour is brief Left for either joy or grief! All on earth that we inherit From the hands of the Great Spirit-- Wigwam, hill, plain, lake, and field-- To the white-man must we yield; For, like sun-down on the waves, We are sinking to our graves!
From this wilderness of wo Like the caravan we go, Leaving all our groves and streams For the far-off land of dreams. There are prairies waving high, Boundless as the sheeted sky, Where our fathers' spirits roam, And the red-man has a home.
Let tradition tell our story. As we fade in cloudless glory, As we seek the land of rest Beyond the borders of the west, No eye but ours may look upon-- WE ARE THE CHILDREN OF THE SUN.
* * * * * *
Land-Ho!
UP, UP WITH THE SIGNAL!--The land is in sight! We'll be happy, if never again, boys, to-night! The cold cheerless ocean in safety we've passed, And the warm genial earth glads our vision at last. In the land of the stranger true hearts we shall find, To soothe us in absence of those left behind. Land!--land-ho!--All hearts glow with joy at the sight! We'll be happy, if never again, boys, to-night!
THE SIGNAL IS WAVING!--Till morn we'll remain, Then part in the hope to meet one day again! Round the hearth-stone of home in the land of our birth, The holiest spot on the face of the earth! Dear country! our thoughts are as constant to thee As the steel to the star, or the stream to the sea. Ho!--land-ho!--We near it!--We bound at the sight! Then be happy, if never again, boys, to-night!
THE SIGNAL IS ANSWERED!--The foam-sparkles rise Like tears from the fountain of joy to the eyes! May rain-drops that fall from the storm-clouds of care, Melt away in the sun-beaming smiles of the fair! One health, as chime gaily the nautical bells: To woman--God bless her!--wherever she dwells! THE PILOT'S ON BOARD!--thank heaven, all's right! So be happy, if never again, boys, to-night!
Woodman, Spare that Tree! [See Notes]
Woodman, spare that tree! Touch not a single bough! In youth it sheltered me, And I'll protect it now. 'Twas my forefather's hand That placed it near his cot; There, woodman, let it stand, Thy axe shall harm it not.
That old familiar tree, Whose glory and renown Are spread o'er land and sea-- And wouldst thou hew it down? Woodman, forebear thy stroke! Cut not its earth-bound ties; Oh, spare that aged oak, Now towering to the skies!
When but an idle boy, I sought its grateful shade; In all their gushing joy Here, too, my sisters played. My mother kissed me here; My father pressed my hand-- Forgive this foolish tear, But let that old oak stand.
My heart-strings round thee cling, Close as thy bark, old friend! Here shall the wild-bird sing, And still thy branches bend. Old tree! the storm still brave! And, woodman, leave the spot; While I've a hand to save, thy axe shall harm it not.
The Cottager's Welcome.
Hard by I've a cottage that stands near the wood-- A stream glides in peace at the door-- Where all who will tarry, 'tis well understood, Receive hospitality's store. To cheer that the brook and the thicket afford, The stranger we ever invite: You're welcome to freely partake at the board, And afterwards rest for the night.
The birds in the morning will sing from
* * * * * *
They're gone--again the red-men rally; With dance and song the woods resound: The hatchet's buried in the valley; No foe profanes our hunting-ground! The green leaves on the blithe boughs quiver, The verdant hills with song-birds ring, While our bark-canoes the river Skim like swallows on the wing. Mirth pervades the land and water, Free from famine, sword, and slaughter.
* * * * * *
Let us, by this gentle river, Blunt the axe and break the quiver, While, as leaves upon the spray, Peaceful flow our cares away.
* * * * * *
Yet, alas! the hour is brief Left for either joy or grief! All on earth that we inherit From the hands of the Great Spirit-- Wigwam, hill, plain, lake, and field-- To the white-man must we yield; For, like sun-down on the waves, We are sinking to our graves!
From this wilderness of wo Like the caravan we go, Leaving all our groves and streams For the far-off land of dreams. There are prairies waving high, Boundless as the sheeted sky, Where our fathers' spirits roam, And the red-man has a home.
Let tradition tell our story. As we fade in cloudless glory, As we seek the land of rest Beyond the borders of the west, No eye but ours may look upon-- WE ARE THE CHILDREN OF THE SUN.
* * * * * *
Land-Ho!
UP, UP WITH THE SIGNAL!--The land is in sight! We'll be happy, if never again, boys, to-night! The cold cheerless ocean in safety we've passed, And the warm genial earth glads our vision at last. In the land of the stranger true hearts we shall find, To soothe us in absence of those left behind. Land!--land-ho!--All hearts glow with joy at the sight! We'll be happy, if never again, boys, to-night!
THE SIGNAL IS WAVING!--Till morn we'll remain, Then part in the hope to meet one day again! Round the hearth-stone of home in the land of our birth, The holiest spot on the face of the earth! Dear country! our thoughts are as constant to thee As the steel to the star, or the stream to the sea. Ho!--land-ho!--We near it!--We bound at the sight! Then be happy, if never again, boys, to-night!
THE SIGNAL IS ANSWERED!--The foam-sparkles rise Like tears from the fountain of joy to the eyes! May rain-drops that fall from the storm-clouds of care, Melt away in the sun-beaming smiles of the fair! One health, as chime gaily the nautical bells: To woman--God bless her!--wherever she dwells! THE PILOT'S ON BOARD!--thank heaven, all's right! So be happy, if never again, boys, to-night!
Woodman, Spare that Tree! [See Notes]
Woodman, spare that tree! Touch not a single bough! In youth it sheltered me, And I'll protect it now. 'Twas my forefather's hand That placed it near his cot; There, woodman, let it stand, Thy axe shall harm it not.
That old familiar tree, Whose glory and renown Are spread o'er land and sea-- And wouldst thou hew it down? Woodman, forebear thy stroke! Cut not its earth-bound ties; Oh, spare that aged oak, Now towering to the skies!
When but an idle boy, I sought its grateful shade; In all their gushing joy Here, too, my sisters played. My mother kissed me here; My father pressed my hand-- Forgive this foolish tear, But let that old oak stand.
My heart-strings round thee cling, Close as thy bark, old friend! Here shall the wild-bird sing, And still thy branches bend. Old tree! the storm still brave! And, woodman, leave the spot; While I've a hand to save, thy axe shall harm it not.
The Cottager's Welcome.
Hard by I've a cottage that stands near the wood-- A stream glides in peace at the door-- Where all who will tarry, 'tis well understood, Receive hospitality's store. To cheer that the brook and the thicket afford, The stranger we ever invite: You're welcome to freely partake at the board, And afterwards rest for the night.
The birds in the morning will sing from