XVIII.
“But great Cawtantowit, on his pinions still,
O’er the lone earth majestically sprung,
And whispered to the mountain, vale and hill,
And with new life the teeming regions rung;
The feathered songsters tune their carols shrill,
Herds upon herds the plain and mountain throng;
In the still pools the cunning beavers toil,
And the armed seseks[5] their strong folds uncoil.
[5] Sesek—rattlesnake.