Deem it ignoble; but the white man’s breath,
To him a besom of consuming death,
Sweeps him like ashes from his natal hearth,
E’en as one day some race of stronger birth
Will sweep our children’s children from the earth.
More noxious than the fabled upas tree,
We blight his virtues first, and then with scorn
Repel the hands extended once to save
Our exiled fathers, fleeing o’er the wave.
Yet in his deepest fall, the warrior, born