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 | The poetical works of William H. C. Hosmer |  |
JA-DA-QUA.
These lines allude to a beautiful Seneca tradition that lends an added charm to
Chau-tau-que Lake, in the State of New York. A young squaw is said to have eaten
of a root shedding on its banks, which created tormenting thirst. To slake it she stooped
down to drink of its clear waters, and disappeared for ever. Thence the name of the
lake, Ja-da-qua, or the place of easy death, where one disappears and is seen no more.
The renowned Corn Planter, in a speech to the president, complaining of his
people's wrongs, eloquently exclaims: “One of our sachems has said he would ask you
to put him out of pain. Another, who will not think of dying by the hand of his
Father, has said he would retire to Chau-tau-que, eat of the fatal root, and sleep with
his father in peace.”—
Turner's Pioneer History.
These lines allude to a beautiful Seneca tradition that lends an added charm to Chau-tau-que Lake, in the State of New York. A young squaw is said to have eaten of a root shedding on its banks, which created tormenting thirst. To slake it she stooped down to drink of its clear waters, and disappeared for ever. Thence the name of the lake, Ja-da-qua, or the place of easy death, where one disappears and is seen no more.
The renowned Corn Planter, in a speech to the president, complaining of his people's wrongs, eloquently exclaims: “One of our sachems has said he would ask you to put him out of pain. Another, who will not think of dying by the hand of his Father, has said he would retire to Chau-tau-que, eat of the fatal root, and sleep with his father in peace.”—
Turner's Pioneer History.Bright Ja-da-qua! was thy shore,
And the stranger treasures yet
Pebbles that thy waves have wet;
For they catch an added glow
From a tale of long ago,
Ere the settler's flashing steel
Rang the green-wood's funeral peal,
Or the plough-share in the vale
Blotted out the red man's trail.
Near thy sheet of glimmering blue,
But the mystic leaves were known
To our wandering tribe alone.
Sweeter far than honeyed fruit
Of the wild plum was its root;
But the smallest morsel cursed
Those who tasted, with a thirst
That impelled them to leap down
In thy cooling depths, and drown.
Sat O-wa-na wreathing flowers,
And, with whortleberries sweet,
Filled were baskets at her feet.
Nature to a form of grace
Had allied a faultless face;
But the music of her tread
Made the prophet shake his head,
For the mark of early doom
He had seen through beauty bloom.
Round her brow she clasped the braid;
Then her roving eye, alas!
Flowering in the summer grass,
Did the fatal plant behold,
And she plucked it from the mould:
Of the honeyed root she ate,
And her peril learned too late,
Flying fast her thirst to slake
From thy wave, enchanting Lake!
Stooped O-wa-na down to drink;
Then the waters, calm before,
Waking, burst upon the shore,
And the maid was seen no more.
Azure glass! in emerald framed,
Since that hour Ja-da-qua named,
Or “the place of easy death,”
When I pant with failing breath,
I will eat the root that grows
On thy banks, and find repose
With the loveliest of our daughters,
In thy blue engulfing waters.
| The poetical works of William H. C. Hosmer | |