 | Ouâbi : or the virtues of nature |  |
CANTO I.
Where soft luxuriance spreads her silken arms,
Where gairish fancy leads the soul astray,
And languid nature mourns her slighted charms:
Which lends my simple muse her artless theme;
But the black forest and uncultur'd vale,
The savage warrior, and the lonely stream.
With slope impetuous to the surgy main,
The desert's painted chiefs explore the wood,
Or with the thund'ring war-whoop shake the plain.
Or in the stream their active bodies lave,
Or midst the flames their fearless songs begin —
Pain has no terrors to the truly brave.
In hopeless exile mourn'd the tedious day;
Now wand'ring slowly o'er the oozy coast,
Now thro the wild woods urg'd his anxious way.
A piercing shriek assail'd his wounded ear;
Swift as the winged arrow speeds its flight,
He seeks the piteous harbinger of fear.
While round his knees a beauteous captive clung,
Striving to move him with her matchless form,
Or charm him by the magic of her tongue.
Quick from his vest the deathful tube he drew;
Its leaden vengeance thunder'd o'er the green,
While from the savage hand the ling'ring hatchet flew.
Still the soft captive sickens with alarms,
Calls on OUÂBI's name with streaming eyes,
While the young victor lives upon her charms.
Her hair far blacker than the raven's wing;
Beauty had lent her form the waving line,
Her breath gave fragrance to the balmy spring.
Her flowing garment wanton'd in the breeze,
Her slender feet the glitt'ring sandals grace,
Her look was dignity, her movement ease.
Her bending waist a modest girdle bound,
Her pearly teeth outvi'd the cygnet's down—
She spoke—and music follow'd in the sound.
Missisippi, an Indian name, signifying the great father of rivers. It is subject to no tides, but from its source in the north of the American Continent flows with rapid force, till it empties itself into the Gulph of Mexico.
The American Indians, after exhausting every species of cruelty and torture upon their most distinguished prisoners, burn them by a distant fire; who expire singing songs of glory and defiance.
The sandals are ornamented either with little glistening bells, or with a great variety of shining beads and feathers.
SHE.
Great ruler of the winged hour,AZÂKIA trembles at thy pow'r;
Thy charms with lightnings pierce the soul:
Ah! how unlike our sable race,
The snowy lustre of thy face!
That hair of beaming Cynthia's hue,
Those shining eyes of heav'nly blue!
Ah! didst thou leave thy blissful land,
To save me from the murd'rer's hand!
And is Ouâbi still thy care,
The dauntless chief, unknown to fear?
It is presumed that Azâkia had never before seen an European, or heard the report of a pistol, as she considers one a deity, and the other his thunder.
HE.
Cease to call Ouâbi's name,Give Celario all his claim.
No divinity is here:
Spare thy praises, quit thy fear:
Bend no more that beauteous knee,
For I am a slave to thee:
Let my griefs thy pity move,
Heal them with the balm of love.
Far beyond the orient main,
By my rage a youth was slain;
He this daring arm defied,
By this arm the ruffian died:
Exil'd from my native home,
Thro the desert wild I roam;
But if only blest by thee,
All the desert smiles on me.
SHE.
See a graceful form arise!Now it fills my ravish'd eyes,
Brighter than the morning star,
'Tis Ouâbi, fam'd in war:
Close before my bosom spread,
O'er thy presence casts a shade,
Full on him these eyes recline,
And his person shuts out thine.
Let us to his home retire,
Where he lights the social fire:
Do not thro the desert roam,
Find with me his gen'rous home;
There the Illinois obey
Great Ouâbi's chosen sway.
The Indian women of America are very chaste after marriage, and if any person makes love to them, they answer, “The Friend that is before my eyes, prevents my seeing you.”
Celario follows o'er the wid'ning plains,
Nor dares his hopeless passion to intrude,
Where constant truth, and blest Ouâbi reigns.
High as the clouds the curling spires ascend,
While warlike youths in circling orders
And midst the green with graceful silence bend.
With step majestic thro the boundless plain;
Thus tow'rs the cedar o'er the willow-groves,
Thus shines bright Cynthia midst her starry train.
And oft repeats the fear-embellish'd tale;
How pointed lightnings pierc'd her wond'ring eyes,
While the near thunder broke the trembling gale!
Whose naked limbs the sculptor's art defied,
Whose nervous strength and graceful charms combine,
Where dignity with fleetness was allied.
His sounding bow was o'er his shoulder flung,
The hatchet, dreadful to insulting foes,
On the low branch in peaceful caution hung.
His manly arms the clasping bracelets bind,
From his broad chest the vari'd beads depend,
And all the hero tow'r'd within his mind.
Inquir'd his sorrows with benignant air,
And, kind as pity, unreserv'd as truth,
Sooth'd ev'ry grief, and proffer'd ev'ry care.
Disclos'd the warring tumults of his breast,
Low on the ground reclin'd his pensive eye,
While his persuasive voice the chief address'd.
At their councils and war-feasts they seat themselves in semicircles or half moons: the King or Sachem stands, or fixes himself in the middle, with his counsellors on each side, according to their age and rank.
See William Penn's letters to his friends in England.CELARIO.
On these far-extended plains,Truth and godlike justice reigns!
In my childhood's happy prime,
A warrior from this western clime,
Oft the fleeting day improv'd,
Talking of the home he lov'd,
All thy glowing worth imprest
On my young enamour'd breast.
Banish'd from my native shore,
Here I turn'd the ready oar.
Tir'd of scenes, where crimes beguile,
Fond of virtue's honest smile,
From perfidious vice I flee,
And devote my life to thee.
Shelter'd in thy social cot,
All the glare of wealth forgot,
Let the hatchet grace my hand,
Let me bend to thy command:
May Celario claim thy care,
Lead him thro the din of war,
Think not of his early age,
Try him midst the battle's rage.
OUÂBI.
Parent of yon rapid flood,
Strike me with the pangs of fear,
Midst the glories of the war,
If Ouâbi does not prove
All a brother's tender love;
If his body cease to be.
Still a sure defence to thee;
If his life-destroying bow
Does not seek thy treach'rous foe.
Seated round the sacred fire,
Waiting for the warrior-feast,
Let them hail thee as their guest:
Music reigns with soft control,
Sable bev'rage fires the soul.
Here yon rising orb of flame
Finds each rolling hour the same;
And the star of ev'ning glows
On each bliss, that nature knows.
Do the natives shun the chase?
Do they fear to bend the bow?
Do they dread the threat'ning foe?
Yet, if courage dwells with thee,
Join the Huron war with me.
The day before battle the sachems and warriors meet together, and with great solemnity join in the war feast.
Sable beverage, which they call the black drink, is made by a decoction of certain herbs, and is similar in appearance to coffee: It is of an exhilarating nature, is prepared by their warriors or head men, and served round at their councils and war feasts, with great solemnity and devotion. The commissioners from the United States were presented with this liquor upon their introduction.
CELARIO.
Oft the active chase they dare,Oft they join the glorious war,
'Tis at home their vices grow,
There they yield to ev'ry foe;
There unnumber'd demons reign,
Led by TERROR, GUILT and PAIN;
Rash REVENGE, with eye-balls rolling,
Hateful MALICE, always scowling,
Base DUPLICITY deceiving,
Cruel SLANDER, still believing,
Insolence to wealth allied,
Rude, unfeeling, trampling PRIDE,
Prudish ENVY'S ready sneer,
Base NEGLECT and dastard FEAR,
Jealousy with bitter sigh,
Low SUSPICION'S jaundiced eye,
Lying FRAUD, with treach'rous smile,
Hard REPROACH, and MEANNESS vile,
Affectation's sick'ning form,
Passion, always in a storm;
These are foes I leave behind,
These the TRAITORS of the mind,
Fearful as the conq'ror's pow'r.
The jetty draught exhausts the gen'rous bowl,
And the fierce dance, fit emblem of the war,
Swells the great mind, and fires the kindling soul.
The peaceful calumet succeeds the feast,
Till livid glimmerings mark the sinking fire,
And the gem'd skies proclaim the hour of rest.
The chiefs, impatient for the battle, rise;
With warlike arms their colour'd limbs adorn,
While glowing valour sparkles in their eyes.
The young Celario with the painted train,
Like white narcissus mid the tulip-bed,
Or like a swan with peacocks on the plain.
Intwin'd with beads, the tow'ring feathers grace,
No longer floating to the am'rous air,
Nor mingling with the beauties of his face.
With careless ease reclin'd his gaudy bow,
Not bright Apollo boasts so fair a form,
Such ringlets never grac'd his iv'ry brow.
No dread artill'ry guards the coward side;
But dauntless strength, and courage half divine,
Command the war, and form the conq'ror's pride.
Her godlike Hector rais'd his crimson'd arm;
Thus great Atrides led the Grecian pow'rs,
And stern Achilles spread the loud alarm.
Eager to follow when Ouâbi leads,
His feather'd arrows glance along the skies,
And many a hero, many a sachem bleeds.
Now deathful show'rs of missive darts descend,
The echoing war-whoop drowns the dying groan,
And shouts of vict'ry ev'ry bosom rend.
Flew a swift arrow where Celario stood,
Its darting vengeance pierc'd his guardless side,
And drank the living current of his blood.
O'er his fair side the drops of crimson glow,
And seem lost rubies on a wint'ry lawn,
Adding new lustre to the silv'ry snow.
No more the foe his conq'ring arm defies;
O'er the blue mountain, thro the thorny vale,
The victor follows, as the vanquish'd flies.
To the lov'd solace of his native plain,
There still regardful of the sacred fires,
Till the loud war awakes his strength again.
Celario gains the sachem's distant home,
Where mourning warriors stop the purple flood,
And for each healing plant the weedy desert roam.
Her constant aid the strength'ning food prepares,
Her plaintive voice beguiles his closing eyes,
And sooths his slumbers with unceasing prayers.
And views the contrast with enamour'd boast,
Now o'er his features bends with accents bland,
'Till ev'ry swimming sense in wonder's lost.
Pursues the gleam which charms his lonely way,
Nor, 'till destruction whelms his hapless head,
Suspects the dangers of the treach'rous ray.
While kindling hopes his doting bosom move;
Yet still Ouâbi's worth his soul inspires,
And much his virtue struggles with his love.
And his brac'd limbs the limping staff resign,
His humid lip with roseate lustre glows,
His lucid eyes with wonted brightness shine.
The dance is rather an act of devotion, than of recreation, and constitutes a part of all their public ceremonies.
See William Penn's Letters.The calumet is a highly ornamented pipe, which the Indians smoke as a type of peace and harmony on all public occasions.
Their bows are stained with a great variety of glaring colours, and otherwise ornamented. For a specimen see the Museum of the University at Cambridge.
It is a point of religion with the American Indians never to suffer their fires to go out until the close of their year, when they are totally extinguished, and others are kindled by friction of certain wood. The policy of this act of devotion is evident, as it not only indicates to their youth the necessity of their being constantly ready for war, but serves as an annual school to instruct them (in all cases of emergency) in the method of raising this necessary element into action from the objects of nature, which surround them.
The prisoners of inferior rank, taken in battle, are retained as slaves by the rights of war; and this is the only kind of slavery known amongst them.
These people are perhaps the first botanists in the world; and from their knowledge of the properties of plants, according to William Penn, have a remedy for almost every disease, to which they are subject. They have certain antidotes to all venomous bites, and it is said an infallible cure for cancers.
| Ouâbi : or the virtues of nature | |