Page:Pocahontas, and Other Poems.djvu/140

 OUR ABORIGINES.

��I HEARD the forests as they cried

Unto the valleys green, " Where is the red-brow'd hunter race,

Who lov'd our leafy screen P Who humbled 'mid these dewy glades

The red deer's antler 'd crown ? Or soaring at his highest noon,

Struck the strong eagle down ? "

Then in the zephyr's voice replied

Those vales, so meekly blest, " They rear'd their dwellings on our side,

Their corn upon our breast ; A blight came down, a blast swept by,

The cone-roofd cabins fell, And where that exil'd people fled,

It is not ours to tell."

Niagara, of the mountains grey, Demanded, from his throne,

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