Their youth was gone, but their experience sage
Had thrice its value in a wise old age.
On settles, raised around the mounting blaze,
Sit gray Wauontom, Keenomp, Sagamore;
But he who most attracts our Founder’s gaze
Is sage Canonicus, whose tresses hoar
Float on the passing breeze; whose brow displays
The care-worn soul in many a furrowed score;
But whose bright eyes, that underneath it glow,