Page:Pocahontas, and Other Poems.djvu/25

Rh .

Know'st thou what thou hast done, thou dark-hair'd child?

What great events on thy compassion hung?

What prowess lurks beneath yon aspect mild,

And in the accents of that foreign tongue?

As little knew the princess who descried

A floating speck on Egypt's turbid tide,—

A bulrush-ark, the matted reeds among,

And, yielding to an infant's tearful smile,

Drew forth Jehovah's seer from the devouring Nile.

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In many a clime, in many a battle tried,

By Turkish sabre, and by Moorish spear;

'Mid Afric's sands, or Russian forests wide,

Romantic, bold, chivalrous, and sincere,

Keen-ey'd, clear-minded, and of purpose pure,

Dauntless to rule, or patient to endure,

Was he whom thou hast rescued with a tear:

Thou wert the saviour of the Saxon vine,

And for this deed alone our praise and love are thine.

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Nor yet for this alone, shall history's scroll

Embalm thine image with a grateful tear;

For when the grasp of famine tried the soul,

When strength decay'd, and dark despair was near,