 | The poetical works of William H. C. Hosmer |  |
228
ORIGIN OF THE CROW.
Weary and worn old Tar-yon-ee
Was slumbering, in the days of yore,
Under a leafy white-wood tree
That grew beside his cabin-door.
Giving the wood a deeper brown,
A raven, huge and black, came down,
And, hungering for human prey,
In his talons bore the chief away.
Was slumbering, in the days of yore,
Under a leafy white-wood tree
That grew beside his cabin-door.
Giving the wood a deeper brown,
A raven, huge and black, came down,
And, hungering for human prey,
In his talons bore the chief away.
While sailed to a distant mountain-peak
With bleeding prize that cruel bird,
A rush of wings—a dismal shriek
His tribe, with horror voiceless, heard:
Soon finished was its dread repast,
And up the monster hurried fast,
Leaving, to whiten in the wind,
A pile of naked bones behind.
With bleeding prize that cruel bird,
A rush of wings—a dismal shriek
His tribe, with horror voiceless, heard:
Soon finished was its dread repast,
And up the monster hurried fast,
Leaving, to whiten in the wind,
A pile of naked bones behind.
Heh-nù—dark Thunder-God—espied
The creature flying to its nest
Far in those regions, blue and wide,
That over stormy Cloud-land rest:—
On his resounding bow he laid
A shaft of ragged lightning made
While the gorged monster, at the sight,
Clapped pinions for a swifter flight.
The creature flying to its nest
Far in those regions, blue and wide,
That over stormy Cloud-land rest:—
On his resounding bow he laid
A shaft of ragged lightning made
While the gorged monster, at the sight,
Clapped pinions for a swifter flight.
Outstretched was its long neck in vain,
Soaring through air with frightful cries
To reach its azure perch again
On wall that fenced remoter skies;
O'ertaken by a missile dire
Scorched was each plume by hissing fire,
And redly the dismembered form
Was showered to earth in atoms warm.
Soaring through air with frightful cries
To reach its azure perch again
On wall that fenced remoter skies;
229
Scorched was each plume by hissing fire,
And redly the dismembered form
Was showered to earth in atoms warm.
A hunter on the hills, in fear,
Watched the torn fragments as they fell,
Forgetful of a wounded deer
That limped for shelter to the dell;
But wilder terror thrilled his heart
When shape took each disrupted part,
And darkly, from the ground, uprose,
Croaking their joy, a flock of crows.
Watched the torn fragments as they fell,
Forgetful of a wounded deer
That limped for shelter to the dell;
But wilder terror thrilled his heart
When shape took each disrupted part,
And darkly, from the ground, uprose,
Croaking their joy, a flock of crows.
Beneath a cedar, tall and green,
The bones of Tar-yon-ee were laid;
His mountain-tomb may yet be seen
Within its ever-during shade:
Ill-omened ravens blacken oft
Its branches towering aloft,
And load, with clamors loud, the air
As if they held a council there.
The bones of Tar-yon-ee were laid;
His mountain-tomb may yet be seen
Within its ever-during shade:
Ill-omened ravens blacken oft
Its branches towering aloft,
And load, with clamors loud, the air
As if they held a council there.
| The poetical works of William H. C. Hosmer | |