I.
Still far along the winding James
War’s muttering thunders ran,
And dark and gloomy clouds hung round
The hills of Powhatan;
And, as the storm more threatening seem’d,
The savage fiercer grew,
And thick around the settlements
His hurtling arrows flew.
As Powhatan in council sat
Among his warriors brave,
And for the coming night’s campaign
His bloody orders gave,
Old Japazaws, who came not there
For many months before,
With hurrying step and haggard look
Came tottering to the door.
Each voice was hush’d, and every eye
Look’d anxiously about,
For well they knew no light affair
Had brought the old chief out.