XXVII.

Late, from this western shore, that morning

chased

The deep and ancient night, which threw its

shroud

O'er the green land of groves, the beautiful

waste,

Nurse of full streams, and lifter-up of proud Sky-mingling mountains that o'erlook the cloud. Erewhile, where yon gay spires their brightness

rear,

Trees waved, and the brown hunter's shouts were loud

Amid the forest; and the bounding deer

Fled at the glancing plume, and the gaunt

wolf yelled near,

XXVIII.

And where his willing waves yon bright blue bay Sends up, to kiss his decorated brim,

And cradles, in his soft embrace, the gay
Young group of grassy islands born of him,
And crowding nigh, or in the distance dim,
Lifts the white throng of sails, that bear or bring
The commerce of the world ;-with tawny limb,
And belt and beads in sunlight glistening,
The savage urged his skiff like wild bird on the
wing.

XXIX.

Then all this youthful paradise around,
And all the broad and boundless mainland, lay
Cooled by the interminable wood, that frowned
O'er mount and vale, where never summer ray
Glanced, till the strong tornado broke his way
Through the gray giants of the sylvan wild;
Yet many a sheltered glade, with blossoms gay,
Beneath the showery sky and sunshine mild,
Within the shaggy arms of that dark forest

smiled.

XXX.

There stood the Indian hamlet, there the lake Spread its blue sheet that flashed with many

an oar,

Where the brown otter plunged him from the brake,

And the deer drank: as the light gale flew o'er,
The twinkling maize-field rustled on the shore;
And while that spot, so wild, and lone, and fair,
A look of glad and guiltless beauty wore,
And peace was on the earth and in the air,
The warrior lit the pile, and bound his captive
there :

XXXI.

Not unavenged; the foeman, from the wood, Beheld the deed, and when the midnight shade Was stillest, gorged his battle-axe with blood; All died-the wailing babe-the shrieking maid

And in the flood of fire that scathed the glade, The roofs went down; but deep the silence grew, When on the dewy woods the day-beam played; No more the cabin smokes rose wreathed and

blue,

And ever, by their lake, lay moored the bark

canoe.

XXXII.

Look now abroad-another race has filled
These populous borders-wide the wood recedes,
And towns shoot up, and fertile realms are tilled 1;
The land is full of harvests and green meads;
Streams numberless, that many a fountain feeds,
Shine, disembowered, and give to sun and

breeze

Their virgin waters; the full region leads.
New colonies forth, that toward the western seas
Spread, like a rapid flame among the autumnal

trees.

XXXIII.

Here the free spirit of mankind, at length
Throws its last fetters off; and who shall place
A limit to the giant's unchained strength,

Or curb his swiftness in the forward race?
On, like the comet's way through infinite space
Stretches the long untravelled path of light,
Into the depths of ages: we may trace,
Afar, the brightening glory of its flight,

Till the receding rays are lost to human sight.

XXXIV.

Europe is given a prey to sterner fates,
And writhes in shackles; strong the arms

that chain

To earth her struggling multitude of states; She too is strong, and might not chafe in vain Against them, but might cast to earth the train