 | Ouâbi : or the virtues of nature |  |
OUÂBI.
Yes! in thy guilty deeds I trace
The crimes which still thy realms disgrace;
But my Celario, yet I find
Each native worth adorns thy mind;
For heav'nly beaming TRUTH is there,
Of open brow and heart sincere!
The crimes which still thy realms disgrace;
But my Celario, yet I find
Each native worth adorns thy mind;
For heav'nly beaming TRUTH is there,
Of open brow and heart sincere!
No daring vice could e'er control
Azâkia's unpolluted soul.
Born amidst virtue's favor'd race,
Her mind as faultless as her face,
Vain must each daring effort prove,
That uncorrupted breast to move;
For on the pure translucid stream
In vain the midnight lightnings beam,
It lifts its bosom to the day,
Unsullied as the solar ray.
Yet have I sworn by yon swift flood,
And by this cloud-envelop'd wood,
Ne'er in these war-devoted arms
To clasp again her matchless charms,
Nor yet these eyes to sleep resign,
'Till all those matchless charms are thine.
Azâkia's unpolluted soul.
Born amidst virtue's favor'd race,
Her mind as faultless as her face,
Vain must each daring effort prove,
That uncorrupted breast to move;
For on the pure translucid stream
In vain the midnight lightnings beam,
It lifts its bosom to the day,
Unsullied as the solar ray.
45
And by this cloud-envelop'd wood,
Ne'er in these war-devoted arms
To clasp again her matchless charms,
Nor yet these eyes to sleep resign,
'Till all those matchless charms are thine.
The youthful Zisma's constant smile
Will ev'ry rising grief beguile.
The shivers from the lofty tree,
The gentle maid will break with me:
In time her rip'ning form and face
Will bloom with all Azâkia's grace.
Will ev'ry rising grief beguile.
The shivers from the lofty tree,
The gentle maid will break with me:
In time her rip'ning form and face
Will bloom with all Azâkia's grace.
But for the war this soul was made,
I scorn the peace-encircled shade:
Revenge recals me to the plain,
To meet the Huron foe again.
No friendly calumet shall glow,
No snow-white plume pass o'er the brow,
'Till in one blaze of ruin hurl'd,
I sink them to the nether world:
Revenge shall every torment ease,
And e'en the parted soul appease.
I scorn the peace-encircled shade:
Revenge recals me to the plain,
To meet the Huron foe again.
No friendly calumet shall glow,
No snow-white plume pass o'er the brow,
'Till in one blaze of ruin hurl'd,
I sink them to the nether world:
Revenge shall every torment ease,
And e'en the parted soul appease.
Their mode of making peace is, previous to smoking the friendly calumet, for the sachem or head-warrior to advance with a white plume, in the form of a fan, towards the ambassadors of the rival nation, and to draw it lightly over their foreheads; meaning to indicate, that from that moment all former animosities are wiped away, and all passed injuries consigned to oblivion. The whiteness of the plume being emblematical of the purity of their intentions in the treaty they are forming.
| Ouâbi : or the virtues of nature | |