 | The hireling and the slave, Chicora, and other poems |  |
IV.
A Meda-man, who had the power
To draw from heaven its genial shower,
And on the growing maize diffuse
Warm sunbeams and refreshing dews,
Told them how, moons on moons before,
The grain first blessed the Indian's store;
Where Mohawk warriors yearly meet
By seas of water pure and sweet,
Not like the salt sea at their feet,
How the Great Spirit first had given
The golden maize, with bounteous hand;
How the young warrior won from Heaven
This blessing for his native land.
A chief dwelt there of humble name,
Age had subdued his manly force,
His feeble shaft and erring aim
No longer stopped the headlong course
Of elk, or struck dead in his flight
The deer, or quelled the bison's might;
And scantily his craft supplied
The pemmican or venison, dried
And stored for use, when tempests close
The wigwam door with drifted snows;
Yet not less earnestly was given
His daily prayer of thanks to Heaven,
Serene his bosom and content,
Whatever the Great Spirit sent.
To draw from heaven its genial shower,
And on the growing maize diffuse
Warm sunbeams and refreshing dews,
Told them how, moons on moons before,
The grain first blessed the Indian's store;
Where Mohawk warriors yearly meet
By seas of water pure and sweet,
Not like the salt sea at their feet,
How the Great Spirit first had given
The golden maize, with bounteous hand;
How the young warrior won from Heaven
This blessing for his native land.
108
Age had subdued his manly force,
His feeble shaft and erring aim
No longer stopped the headlong course
Of elk, or struck dead in his flight
The deer, or quelled the bison's might;
And scantily his craft supplied
The pemmican or venison, dried
And stored for use, when tempests close
The wigwam door with drifted snows;
Yet not less earnestly was given
His daily prayer of thanks to Heaven,
Serene his bosom and content,
Whatever the Great Spirit sent.
His son now kept, his boyhood past,
The nation's customary fast;
Seven days and nights, deprived of food,
He spent amid the sacred wood;
There, in a lodge from all apart,
With steadfast trust and manly heart,
He strove to win some spirit's aid
To help him in the warrior's strife,
To help him in the hunter's life,
In field of blood and forest shade.
The nation's customary fast;
Seven days and nights, deprived of food,
He spent amid the sacred wood;
There, in a lodge from all apart,
With steadfast trust and manly heart,
He strove to win some spirit's aid
To help him in the warrior's strife,
To help him in the hunter's life,
In field of blood and forest shade.
To calm his mind, his spirits cheer,
He wandered in the forest near;
Gathered sweet flowers in serious thought,
And wished that by his youthful hand
Some signal wonder should be wrought,
Some boon to bless the Indian's land;
Luxuriant vines above his head
Their purple clusters vainly spread
Berry and nut around him waste
Their sweets to tempt his boyish taste;
But still, with self-denial stern,
Upon the future blessing bent,
He strives with earnest will to earn
The boon to virtue only sent
By the Great Spirit's hand, whose care
The humblest as the highest share.
He wandered in the forest near;
Gathered sweet flowers in serious thought,
And wished that by his youthful hand
Some signal wonder should be wrought,
Some boon to bless the Indian's land;
109
Their purple clusters vainly spread
Berry and nut around him waste
Their sweets to tempt his boyish taste;
But still, with self-denial stern,
Upon the future blessing bent,
He strives with earnest will to earn
The boon to virtue only sent
By the Great Spirit's hand, whose care
The humblest as the highest share.
Three days and nights of weary fast
And dreary solitude were passed;
Feeble and faint, he slumb'ring lay,
Dreaming the fourth long sun away,
When at his door, of gentle mood
And beauteous form, a hunter stood;
A golden tassel crowned his head,
About his shoulders waving leaves
Of dark, rich verdure broadly spread,
And with them mixed were golden sheaves.
He smiled—the forest seemed more fair,
A fresher verdure clothed the ground;
He spoke—sweet music filled the air,
And fragrant odors lingered round;
“Bear with strong heart,” the stranger said,
“The burden on your courage laid;
Bear bravely; 'tis the good alone
To whom the nobler part is known,
Burdened to bear with spirit high,
Unshaken heart, unblenching eye,
And so achieve the good from heaven
To steadfast virtue only given;
Rise from the ground, and from you cast
The feebleness of watch and fast;
Attempt, though suffering now and weak,
The trial task I come to claim,
The manly strife, the wrestler's game,
That so the boon you nobly seek
May fill your hands and bless your name.”
And dreary solitude were passed;
Feeble and faint, he slumb'ring lay,
Dreaming the fourth long sun away,
When at his door, of gentle mood
And beauteous form, a hunter stood;
A golden tassel crowned his head,
About his shoulders waving leaves
Of dark, rich verdure broadly spread,
And with them mixed were golden sheaves.
He smiled—the forest seemed more fair,
A fresher verdure clothed the ground;
He spoke—sweet music filled the air,
And fragrant odors lingered round;
“Bear with strong heart,” the stranger said,
“The burden on your courage laid;
Bear bravely; 'tis the good alone
To whom the nobler part is known,
Burdened to bear with spirit high,
Unshaken heart, unblenching eye,
And so achieve the good from heaven
To steadfast virtue only given;
110
The feebleness of watch and fast;
Attempt, though suffering now and weak,
The trial task I come to claim,
The manly strife, the wrestler's game,
That so the boon you nobly seek
May fill your hands and bless your name.”
The faster with the wrestler strove,
With warmer glow his spirits rise,
His limbs a strength unwonted prove,
More vigorous all the more he tries:
“Cease, now,” the stranger said; “refrain
From further strife: we stop to-day;
To-morrow I return again:”
He spoke, and passed, unseen, away.
With warmer glow his spirits rise,
His limbs a strength unwonted prove,
More vigorous all the more he tries:
“Cease, now,” the stranger said; “refrain
From further strife: we stop to-day;
To-morrow I return again:”
He spoke, and passed, unseen, away.
To cheer or try the sufferer's mood,
Thrice at his door the wrestler stood;
Thrice as they strove, as subtle flame,
A spell of power increasing came
With vigor to the wasted frame.
The third day, when the strife was past,
The hunter said, “I come again
But once; the visit is the last;
Then lay my body in the plain;
Open the spot to sun and rain;
Guard well the place, and watch with care,
That no rank weed may flourish there;
And when four moons have waxed and waned,
From the Great Source whence ever flows
Each blessing that the Red Man knows,
Your guerdon's won, your wish obtained.”
Thrice at his door the wrestler stood;
Thrice as they strove, as subtle flame,
A spell of power increasing came
With vigor to the wasted frame.
The third day, when the strife was past,
The hunter said, “I come again
But once; the visit is the last;
Then lay my body in the plain;
Open the spot to sun and rain;
Guard well the place, and watch with care,
That no rank weed may flourish there;
And when four moons have waxed and waned,
From the Great Source whence ever flows
Each blessing that the Red Man knows,
Your guerdon's won, your wish obtained.”
111
His mother in the forest sought
Her fasting son, and fondly brought,
Dressed by her hands, the choicest cheer,
The tender bird and savory deer;
In vain all day the dainties wooed
His taste; with patience unsubdued
He waited for his friend again,
Buried his body in the plain,
Cherished the spot with anxious care,
Suffered no weed to shelter there;
And when the stated time was gone,
One glorious morn of purple light,
Sparkling with dews at early dawn,
A shape of beauty met his sight;
A tassel formed its lofty head,
Like that the friendly hunter bore;
Broad, graceful leaves around it spread,
Like those the friendly wrestler wore,
And glossy in the morning rays
Hung clustered ears of golden maize;
Surprised he stood, with joy elate,
Then homeward hastened to relate
The wondrous story yet untold,
And brought the aged sire to see
Where, from the rising mound, unfold,
These richer gifts than gems or gold,
Won by his spirit's constancy.
Her fasting son, and fondly brought,
Dressed by her hands, the choicest cheer,
The tender bird and savory deer;
In vain all day the dainties wooed
His taste; with patience unsubdued
He waited for his friend again,
Buried his body in the plain,
Cherished the spot with anxious care,
Suffered no weed to shelter there;
And when the stated time was gone,
One glorious morn of purple light,
Sparkling with dews at early dawn,
A shape of beauty met his sight;
A tassel formed its lofty head,
Like that the friendly hunter bore;
Broad, graceful leaves around it spread,
Like those the friendly wrestler wore,
And glossy in the morning rays
Hung clustered ears of golden maize;
Surprised he stood, with joy elate,
Then homeward hastened to relate
The wondrous story yet untold,
And brought the aged sire to see
Where, from the rising mound, unfold,
These richer gifts than gems or gold,
Won by his spirit's constancy.
The sachem looked with wondering eyes:
“'Tis the Great Spirit's boon,” he said,
“Sent by the Ruler of the skies
For grateful rites devoutly paid;
Its fruits shall bless the Indian's store
With plenty never known before,
And the Red tribes shall want no more.”
“'Tis the Great Spirit's boon,” he said,
“Sent by the Ruler of the skies
For grateful rites devoutly paid;
112
With plenty never known before,
And the Red tribes shall want no more.”
The prophet ceased; the tale was done;
With grateful thought each bosom heaved,
And for the priceless bounty won,
The peaceful victory achieved,
They praise the bounteous Power that gave,
And hail with joy the youthful brave
That in the happy valley, blessed
With lighter foot and keener zest
For forest sports, with shadowy bow,
Drives, as he drove the deer before
On Michigan or Erie's shore,
The antlered elk or buffalo.
With grateful thought each bosom heaved,
And for the priceless bounty won,
The peaceful victory achieved,
They praise the bounteous Power that gave,
And hail with joy the youthful brave
That in the happy valley, blessed
With lighter foot and keener zest
For forest sports, with shadowy bow,
Drives, as he drove the deer before
On Michigan or Erie's shore,
The antlered elk or buffalo.
| The hireling and the slave, Chicora, and other poems | |