Ten times complains our violated right;
They’ll help thy memory, and perchance will tell,
Ten causes have we to distrust the White;
Scarce can the grave our fathers’ spirits quell—
They come complaining in the dreams of night;
Ten times the pipe was by the strangers broke,
Ten times the hatchet from its slumbers woke.”
LI.
Williams the fragments took, and, counting ten,
He promptly answered with this calm reply: