V.
He paused and look’d at Powhatan
For some approving word;
But a bitter sigh from Metoka
Was the only sound he heard.
‘If it is done, then be it so,’
The monarch said, at last;
‘Though rather would I see them fall
‘By the spirit’s lightning blast;
‘Or that our arms in open fight
‘Might hurl the deadly blow,
‘And show them Powhatan has power
‘To conquer any foe.
‘But if the deed is done, ’tis well—
‘The agent or the hour
‘We will not question, if it serve
‘To crush their growing power.
‘Come, let us to the lodge retire;
‘Thou’lt rest with us to-night:
‘The clouds rise dark; the lightning fires
‘Flash with a fiercer light.’
Now sitting in the lodge, they talk
Of their mighty pale-face foe:
Pamunky broods with secret joy
Upon the impending blow;
But Powhatan walks up and down
With sadness in his eye;
For though it was his settled will
The pale-face foe should die,
Yet still he feels ’ twould better suit
His prowess and his pride,
If warriors’ arms in the battle-field
The deadly strife had tried.