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Ouâbi : or the virtues of nature

an Indian tale in four cantos

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27

OUÂBI.

Dear youth, by bounteous nature blest,
Thou chosen brother of my breast,
What other friends can claim thy care,
For who can hold thee half so dear!
Does not the chain of friendship bind
Thy virtues with Ouâbi's mind!
And this warm heart's expanding flame,
Still kindle at Celario's name!
My faithful warriors all are thine,
And all thy treach'rous foes are mine.
Perhaps some wrong, thy soul disdains,
Disgusts thee to these hated plains;
By yon bright ruler of the skies,
The wretch, who wrong'd thee, surely dies.
The strength'ned foe their arms prepare,
Tomorrow leads me to the war;
This night we claim thee, as a guest,
To join the sacred warrior-feast.
While danger all my steps attend,
Let mild Azâkia find a friend.