The conscious chain will vibrate to the White,
And, roused from slumber, will the big guns speak,
And flames will flash from every woodland height.
Pause, brother, pause—and to the pale-faced train
Extend thy friendship, and keep bright the chain.
“But hearken still—Thy brother knows no guile;
His tongue speaks truly what his heart conceives;
Against the Pequots do your bosoms boil,
And for the Pequot deeds Awanux grieves;