The Downing legends : Stories in Rhyme :: :: University of Virginia Library

He rose to life through raging seas;
He saw the sky, he caught the breeze;
He found himself without a wound,
Though gasping near to being drowned.
He headed tow'rd the southern coast,
And swam as never swam a ghost.
In vain the rapids barred and banned;
He tore his foaming way to land.
A minute's panting rest, and then
He stared about the rocky glen,
And down the river's bubbly glare
For her whose witchcraft brought him there.

Anon he saw her, living still
And far beyond his power to kill.
From dizzy cliffs above his head
She leaned to spy if he were dead,
And when he sought to win her shelf
She fled as flies a frighted elf.
He clutched for pistols all in vain;
The torrent bore them tow'rd the main.
Then, climbing swift, he won the dell
Where lately rang the Mingo yell,
And searched the thickets far and near
For tomahawk, or bow, or spear.

Some angel helped; he quickly found
A walnut bow of many a pound,
And twenty arrows pictured o'er
With quaint device of powwow lore;
And, being skilled in Indian charms

He knew that these were fated arms
Assured to slay each savage thing,
However swift of foot or wing;
Yea, also weird enough to smite
Whatever wizard haunts the night.

Thus armed, he shouted, “Shoulder hoo!”
And hasted westward, full of glee,
To strive with beast and bugaboo
And salvage grim and desert dree;
Yet never backward turn his shoe,
Nor ever fail in heart or knee;
But tramp Columbia through and through
From sunrise unto sunset sea;
And do the deeds of derring-do
That he could do, and only he.