 | The American common-place book of poetry |  |
Burial of the Minnisink.—Longfellow.
On sunny slope and beechen swell
The shadowed light of evening fell;
And when the maple's leaf was brown,
With soft and silent lapse came down
The glory that the wood receives,
At sunset, in its golden leaves.
The shadowed light of evening fell;
And when the maple's leaf was brown,
With soft and silent lapse came down
The glory that the wood receives,
At sunset, in its golden leaves.
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Far upward, in the mellow light,
Rose the blue hills—one cloud of white;
Around, a far uplifted cone
In the warm blush of evening shone—
An image of the silver lakes
By which the Indian soul awakes.
Rose the blue hills—one cloud of white;
Around, a far uplifted cone
In the warm blush of evening shone—
An image of the silver lakes
By which the Indian soul awakes.
But soon a funeral hymn was heard,
Where the soft breath of evening stirred
The tall, gray forest; and a band
Of stern in heart and strong in hand
Came winding down beside the wave,
To lay the red chief in his grave.
Where the soft breath of evening stirred
The tall, gray forest; and a band
Of stern in heart and strong in hand
Came winding down beside the wave,
To lay the red chief in his grave.
They sung, that by his native bowers
He stood, in the last moon of flowers,
And thirty snows had not yet shed
Their glory on the warrior's head;
But as the summer fruit decays,
So died he in those naked days.
He stood, in the last moon of flowers,
And thirty snows had not yet shed
Their glory on the warrior's head;
But as the summer fruit decays,
So died he in those naked days.
A dark cloak of the roebuck's skin
Covered the warrior, and within
Its heavy folds, the weapons made
For the hard toils of war were laid;
The cuirass woven of plaited reeds,
And the broad belt of shells and beads.
Covered the warrior, and within
Its heavy folds, the weapons made
For the hard toils of war were laid;
The cuirass woven of plaited reeds,
And the broad belt of shells and beads.
Before, a dark-haired virgin train
Chanted the death dirge of the slain;
Behind, the long procession came
Of hoary men and chiefs of fame,
With heavy hearts, and eyes of grief,
Leading the war-horse of their chief.
Chanted the death dirge of the slain;
Behind, the long procession came
Of hoary men and chiefs of fame,
With heavy hearts, and eyes of grief,
Leading the war-horse of their chief.
Stripped of his proud and martial dress,
Uncurbed, unreined, and riderless,
With darting eye, and nostril spread,
And heavy and impatient tread,
He came; and oft that eye so proud
Asked for his rider in the crowd.
Uncurbed, unreined, and riderless,
With darting eye, and nostril spread,
And heavy and impatient tread,
He came; and oft that eye so proud
Asked for his rider in the crowd.
They buried the dark chief; they freed
Beside the grave his battle steed;
And swift an arrow cleaved its way
To his stern heart:—One piercing neigh
Arose—and on the dead man's plain,
The rider grasps his steed again.
Beside the grave his battle steed;
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To his stern heart:—One piercing neigh
Arose—and on the dead man's plain,
The rider grasps his steed again.
| The American common-place book of poetry | |