Poems and Plays By William Hayley ... in Six Volumes. A New Edition |
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 | Poems and Plays |  |
The Indians first, by novelty dismay'd,
As Gods rever'd us, and as Gods obey'd;
But when they found we were of woman born,
Their homage turn'd to enmity and scorn:
Their childish error when our weakness show'd,
They blush'd at what their ignorance bestow'd;
Fiercely they burnt with anger and with shame,
To see their masters but of mortal frame.
Disdaining cold and cowardly delay,
They seek atonement, on no distant day:
Prompt and resolv'd, in quick debate they join,
To form of deep revenge their dire design.
Impatient that their bold decree should spread,
And shake the world around with sudden dread,
Th' assembling Chieftains led so large a train,
Their ready host o'erspread th' extensive plain.
No summons now the soldier's heart requires;
The thirst of battle every breast inspires;
No pay, no promise of reward, they ask,
Keen to accomplish their spontaneous task;
And, by the force of one avenging blow,
Crush and annihilate their foreign foe.
Of some brave Chiefs, who to this council came,
Well may'st thou, Memory, preserve the name;
Tho' rude and savage, yet of noble soul,
Justly they claim their place on Glory's roll,
Who robbing Spain of many a gallant son,
In so confin'd a space such victories won;
Whose fame some living Spaniards yet may spread,
Too well attested by our warlike dead.
As Gods rever'd us, and as Gods obey'd;
But when they found we were of woman born,
Their homage turn'd to enmity and scorn:
Their childish error when our weakness show'd,
They blush'd at what their ignorance bestow'd;
Fiercely they burnt with anger and with shame,
To see their masters but of mortal frame.
97
They seek atonement, on no distant day:
Prompt and resolv'd, in quick debate they join,
To form of deep revenge their dire design.
Impatient that their bold decree should spread,
And shake the world around with sudden dread,
Th' assembling Chieftains led so large a train,
Their ready host o'erspread th' extensive plain.
No summons now the soldier's heart requires;
The thirst of battle every breast inspires;
No pay, no promise of reward, they ask,
Keen to accomplish their spontaneous task;
And, by the force of one avenging blow,
Crush and annihilate their foreign foe.
Of some brave Chiefs, who to this council came,
Well may'st thou, Memory, preserve the name;
Tho' rude and savage, yet of noble soul,
Justly they claim their place on Glory's roll,
Who robbing Spain of many a gallant son,
In so confin'd a space such victories won;
Whose fame some living Spaniards yet may spread,
Too well attested by our warlike dead.
| Poems and Plays | |