University of Virginia Library

Stretched on his bed of skins, the Panther lay,
The warrior of the Mohawks. Low and dark
Was his lone cabin, near the brawling stream,
While o'er its walls the hunter's shaggy spoils
Profusely hung. In the stone chimney rude,
The flame went crackling up.
But there he lay,
That gray-haired chieftain, to arise no more.
His son, the sole companion of the lodge,
Was by his side. Immovable he stood,
Like a tall bronzed statue, sculptured bold,
In massive strength.
Symmetrical was he,
That warlike sire, whose frame had scorned to bend
'Neath ninety winters, and whose deep-set eye
Flashed in its struggle with an unseen foe,
Plucking his heart-strings.
Painfully he spake:
“Son of the Fawn! the Panther leaps no more;
His teeth no more are terrible. Time was”—
On his chill lip the laboured accents died.
Still o'er him swept the past, the battle-cry,
The forest-hunt, the midnight council-fire.
“Time was”—
In vain he strove, a smothered groan
O'ercame his utterance. Yet the anguish passed,
And he, whose strength had never quailed before,
Exhausted, slumbered like a helpless child.

He woke, and by him stood that statued son,
Watching the spoiler's progress o'er his brow,
With a red, restless eye.
“Air! air!” he cried,
With a wild gasp. Upon its utmost hinge
The rough door swung. The lungs, collapsing, caught
That blessed draught, and light to heart and eye
Spontaneous sprang.
Once more the sufferer marked
The brook contending with the fitful winds,
While the full autumn-moon, through parted boughs,
Silvered the flashing waters, as they plunged
O'er a steep ledge.
On the fair sight he fed,
With wistful glance, as one who takes his leave,
Ne'er to return. His long and toil-worn life
Seemed as a span, while a sharp lance's point
Traced hurrying scenes on memory's shrivelled scroll.

“I sing no death song. War, that once I loved,
Fades in its own foul smoke. But, she is there—
There, by that stream's green edge. Just so the moon
Looked down upon us, when she first was mine.
Child of the Fawn! her eye was like its beam
On yonder troubled waters. When I came
Wearied from hunting, or the strife of men,
Such was it in my soul.
She waits me still—
She, whom alone I loved. She waits me there,
In yon bright forests, where our unquelled sires
Roam as of old.
I'll tell her in her ear,
That thou dost linger, by the river's brink
So, to this cabin we'll together come,
And talk with thee.”
Breath failed him, for he spake
Rapid and fervent. He who ne'er had known
A dear Redeemer's dying love, or heard
The angel's song, “peace and good-will to men,”
Turned to the one lone day-star of his course,
And the pure passion of his heart's first love
Shed light on death's grim face.
“I made her grave
By the great western lake. Deep, deep and dark!
The mound is high above it. The blue waves
Break round its feet. Thy mother slumbers there.
I'll go and see that grave before I die.”

Half from his bed he sprang. The giant limbs
Which like the oak that braves a century's wrath,
Had never failed, grew rigid.
Back he fell,
Dashing the water from the hand that fain
His parching lips would lave, and with glazed eyes
Gibbered and murmured, as delirium claimed
Tyrannic service from a stiffening tongue.
Then, mid a labyrinth of sighs and smiles,
And moans, and snatches of unuttered words,
And shivering spasms, to which the worn-out nerves
Scarce gave sensation, or response of pain,
Death came and did his work, and the dark clay
Lay still, before him.
And that lonely lodge
Of the fierce Panther of the Mohawks, heard
Naught save the loud lamenting of his son;
For pride no longer checked the filial flood,
When none were near to say, “Our chieftain weeps.”
So there he stood, an emblem of his race
Whose glory had departed. There he drooped,
And moaned, till dawn had sped on pinions gray,
And day came freshly forth.
But then he strode,
With steadfast step, and eye that told no tale
Of the heart's secret grief, and spake unmoved
The summons to his tribe, who mournful came
Flocking with heads declined, to lay the bones
Of their old warrior in an honoured tomb.