The Downing legends : Stories in Rhyme The witch of Shiloh, the last of the Wampanoags, the gentle earl, the enchanted voyage |
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 | The Downing legends : Stories in Rhyme |  |
LIV
She veiled her head to welcome death;
She uttered not a pleading breath.
She uttered not a pleading breath.
He seemed to have before his face
The very last of a fallen race,
The last of many a tribe and clan,
The final soul of red-skinned man.
He could not even wish to slay
A thing so pitiful and meek.
Instead, he raised his hand to stay
A tear from sliding down his cheek.
He felt like one who journeys slow
In some funereal train of woe,
And cannot find a bitter word,
Although the corpse to be interred
Was once his hated, harmful foe.
The very last of a fallen race,
The last of many a tribe and clan,
The final soul of red-skinned man.
He could not even wish to slay
A thing so pitiful and meek.
Instead, he raised his hand to stay
A tear from sliding down his cheek.
112
In some funereal train of woe,
And cannot find a bitter word,
Although the corpse to be interred
Was once his hated, harmful foe.
Awhile they floated down the tide,
And still the maiden never sighed,
Nor uttered any speech of wail,
Although perhaps her spirit cried
To gods who helped her sires prevail,
Or bravely bear the mortal blow,
In forest battles long ago.
At last there came a gentle shiver,
And calmly lifting up her veil,
She showed a visage wan and pale,
But full of witchery as ever.
One glance aloft, to morning's glow,
That seemed to say, “Manitto, hail!”
Then softly rocking to and fro,
She poured her deathsong o'er the river.
And still the maiden never sighed,
Nor uttered any speech of wail,
Although perhaps her spirit cried
To gods who helped her sires prevail,
Or bravely bear the mortal blow,
In forest battles long ago.
At last there came a gentle shiver,
And calmly lifting up her veil,
She showed a visage wan and pale,
But full of witchery as ever.
One glance aloft, to morning's glow,
That seemed to say, “Manitto, hail!”
Then softly rocking to and fro,
She poured her deathsong o'er the river.
| The Downing legends : Stories in Rhyme | |