University of Virginia Library

AN ARROW-HEAD.

Crossing yon field an arrow-head I found
Shaped from the flinty rock with wondrous art;
No other trace upon the furrowed ground,
Though patiently I broke the clods apart,
Was visible of ancient Indian rule—
When the grim forest, to its dusky heart,
Thrilled with the whoop of war and hunter's shout,
Frighting the wild-duck from her rushy pool,
And from green lair the trooping antler'd herd,
Faint impress leaving, like the passing bird:
Thus are the tracks of nations blotted out,
Save when the world, erst trod by them, is stirred
By other races—giving to the light
Some yellow crumbling bone, or implement of fight.