 | The candle in the cabin |  |
33
THE BABBITT JAMBOREE
When I see an Indian dressed for war
Yet dancing for a Babbitt jamboree
In plumes no Babbitt ever dares to wear,
An anger rises in me
Like high tide in the sea.
These are my own, these Indians. I know
What makes the breeds more bitter than the bloods.
There's just one drop of Indian blood in me,
Yet in tremendous tides and floods
It seems to sweep upon me when I watch
Those who have owned this land turned to a show.
Yet dancing for a Babbitt jamboree
In plumes no Babbitt ever dares to wear,
An anger rises in me
Like high tide in the sea.
These are my own, these Indians. I know
What makes the breeds more bitter than the bloods.
There's just one drop of Indian blood in me,
Yet in tremendous tides and floods
It seems to sweep upon me when I watch
Those who have owned this land turned to a show.
And when I put a feather in my hat,
It is with thoughts the Babbitts cannot know.
Woe to the pale face then who thinks it is for show!
It is with thoughts the Babbitts cannot know.
Woe to the pale face then who thinks it is for show!
That little feather stands for a whole war.
It means I beat the tom-toms in the rain;
It means a scalping knife is in my belt,
That I will lead the young braves not in vain.
It means when all these silly days are done,
Sons of this soil will come into their own,
Sons of the Mohawk,
Sons of Pocahontas,
Bread of these rocks and mountains, blood and bone.
It means I beat the tom-toms in the rain;
It means a scalping knife is in my belt,
That I will lead the young braves not in vain.
It means when all these silly days are done,
Sons of this soil will come into their own,
Sons of the Mohawk,
Sons of Pocahontas,
Bread of these rocks and mountains, blood and bone.
| The candle in the cabin | |