AMERICA.

A STORY OF THE INDIAN WAR.

THEY read of rapine, war, and wo,

A party by an English fire, Of Indian warfare in the wood, Of stern and ruthless ire.

They read of torture worse than death

Of treachery dark

of natures base

Of women savage as the beast

Of the red Indian race.

"Hold!" said the matron of the hearth,

A woman beautiful in age;

"And let me of the Indian speak;

Close, close that faithless page!

"My father was the youngest born
In an old rural English hall;
The youngest out of five stout sons,
With patrimony small.

"His boyhood was in greenwood spent ;
His youth was all a sylvan dream;
He tracked the game upon the hills;
He angled in the stream.

"Quiet was he, and well content,

With naught to fret, and none to chide;

HOWITT'S POEMS.

For all that his young heart desired
The woods and streams supplied.

"Small knowledge had a youth so trained, College or school ne'er knew his face; And yet as he grew up, he grew

Superior to his race.

"His brethren were of sordid sort,

He

Men with coarse minds, and without range

grew adventurous and bold,

Inquisitive of change.

66 And, as he grew, he took to books,
And read whate'er the hall supplied;
Histories of admirals, voyages old,
And travels far and wide.

"He read of settlers, who went forth

To the far west, and pitched their tent Within the woods, and grew, ere long, To a great prosperous settlement.

"He read of the bold lives they led,
Full of adventure, hardy, free;
Of the wild creatures they pursued,
Of game in every tree.

"And how the Indians, quaintly gay,

Came down in wampum-belt and feather
To welcome them with courteous grace⚫
How they and the free forest race
Hunted and dwelt together.

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"And how they and their chosen mates
Led lives so sweet and primitive:
Oh! in such land, with one dear heart,
What joy it were to live!

"So thought he, and such life it were
As suited well his turn of mind;
For what within his father's house
Was there to lure or bind?

"Four needy brothers, coarse and dull;
A patrimony, quite outspent ;
A mother, long since in her grave;
A father, weak and indolent!

"At twenty he had ta’en a mate,

A creature gentle, kind and fair; Poor, like himself, but well content The forest-life to share.

"She left an old white-headed sire;
A mother loving, thoughtful, good;
She left a home of love, to live
For him, within the wood.

"And that old couple did provide,
Out of their need, for many a want
Else unforseen; their daughter's dower
In gifts of love, not scant.

"His father with cold scorn received

So dowered a daughter, without name;

Nor could his purposed exile win

Either assent or blame.

HOWITT'S POEMS.

All was a chill of indifference;

And from his father's gate he went, As from a place where none for him Had kindred sentiment.

"And in the western world they dwelt;
Life, like a joyous summer morn,
Each hope fulfilled; and in the wild
To them were children born.

"All that his youth had dreamed he found
In that life's freshness; peril strange;
Adventure; freedom; sylvan wealth;
And ceaseless, blameless change.

"And there he, and his heart's true mate,
Essayed and found how sweet to live,
'Mid nature's store, with health and love,
That life so primitive!

"But that sweet life came to an end.

As falls the golden-eared corn Before the sickle, earthly bliss

In human hearts is shorn.

"Sickness - bereavement - widowhood

Oh, these three awful words embrace
A weight of mortal wo that fell
Upon our sylvan dwelling-place'

"It matters not to tell of pangs,

Of the heart broken, the bereft;
I will pass over death and tears,
I will pass on to other years,
When only two were left'

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"I and a sister; long had passed

The anguish of that time, and we Were living in a home of love, Though in a stranger's family.

Still in the wilderness we dwelt,

And were grown up towards womanhood; When our sweet life of peace was stirred By tales of civil feud.

"By rumors of approaching war,
Of battle done, of armed bands;
Of horrid deeds of blood and fire,
Achieved by Indian hands.

"We heard it first with disbelief:

And long time after, when had spread Wild war throughout the land, we dwelt All unassailed by dread.

"For they with whom our lot was cast,
Were people of that Christian creed
Who will not fight, but trust in God
For help in time of need.

"The forest round was like a camp,
And men were armed day and night;
And every morning brought fresh news
To heighten their affright.

"Though the green forest rose the smoke

Of places burned the night before; And from their victims, the red scalp The excited Indian tore.