Like two bright stars beneath a thunder cloud.
IX.
With strong majestic stride and lofty gait,
He neared our Founder and his dusky guide,
Who, in half tone, could but ejaculate,
“Miantonomi!” when his Indian pride
Choked further utterance, though still elate,
Grasping his axe, with nostrils spreading wide,
Self-poised he stood; appearing to await
The approaching chief, who glanced disdainful hate.