Page:Pocahontas and Other Poems (NY).pdf/191

190 His body's need, dost turn thy hand and touch The ethereal mind. Yea, when thou seem'st to die, Thou only dropp'st thy grosser elements To commune with the soul. Mysterious guest I seem to fear thee. Would that I had known Thy lineage better, and been less remiss In the good grace of hospitality. I much bemoan myself that thou shouldst be So treated in my house. With reverent hand And genuflection, I do take thee up And straight bespeak for thee more fitting place Mid thy compeers. But who can say what form Thou next may'st wear? Perchance the pictured page Through which the lisping and delighted child Hath its first talk with knowledge, or the chart That saves the mariner mid rocks and shoals Upon the wrecking sea. Or lov'st thou best To be the tablet of the sage? or bear The bard's rich music to another age? Or with some message from the Book of Life, Wake the dead slumber of benighted lands?