XIV.
We call them savage—O be just!
Their outraged feelings scan;
A voice comes forth, ’tis from the dust—
The savage was a man!
Think ye he loved not? who stood by,
And in his toils took part?
Woman was there to bless his eye—
The savage had a heart!
Think ye he prayed not? when on high
He heard the thunders roll,
What bade him look beyond the sky?
The savage had a soul!
[p12]
XV.
I venerate the Pilgrim’s cause,
Yet for the red man dare to plead—
We bow to Heaven’s recorded laws,
He turned to nature for a creed;
Beneath the pillared dome,
We seek our God in prayer;
Through boundless woods he loved to roam,
And the Great Spirit worshipped there:
But one, one fellow-throb with us he felt;
To one divinity with us he knelt;
Freedom, the self-same freedom we adore,
Bade him defend his violated shore;
He saw the cloud, ordained to grow,
And burst upon his hills in wo;
He saw his people withering by,
Beneath the invader’s evil eye;
Strange feet were trampling on his fathers’ bones;
At midnight hour he woke to gaze
Upon his happy cabin’s blaze,
And listen to his children’s dying groans:
He saw—and maddening at the sight,
Gave his bold bosom to the fight;
To tiger rage his soul was driven,
Mercy was not—nor sought nor given;
The pale man from his lands must fly;
He would be free—or he would die.
[p13]
XVI.
And was this savage? say,
Ye ancient few,
Who struggled through
Young freedom’s trial-day—
What first your sleeping wrath awoke?
On your own shores war’s larum broke:
What turned to gall even kindred blood?
Round your own homes the oppressor stood:
This every warm affection chilled,
This every heart with vengeance thrilled,
And strengthened every hand;
From mound to mound,
The word went round—
“Death for our native land!”