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 XXIX. Then all this youthful paradise around, Within the shaggy arms of that dark forest smiled. XXX. There stood the Indian hamlet, there the lake And peace was on the earth and in the air, 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 light 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: 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, Or curb his swiftness in the forward race! Far, like the comet's way through infinite space, Distant, 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 That trample her, and break their iron net. Yes, she shall look on brighter days and gain The meed of worthier deeds; the moment set To rescue and raise up, draws near-but is not yet. XXXV. But thou, my country, thou shalt never fall, Are the wide barrier of thy borders, where, THANATOPSIS. To him who in the love of Nature holds Their sharpness, ere he is aware. When thoughts Over thy spirit, and sad images Of the stern agony, and shroud, and pall, |