The Elder pass, and leave his humble door;
His toils, cares, hopes, all lost; and poverty
Sudden, gaunt, naked, spread its glooms once more.
A clashing sound first broke this mental strife;
’Twas Waban, edging sharp his scalping knife.
LIV.
And such an ireful look, (his eyes so bright,
So played his muscles and so gnashed his teeth)—
Red warrior ne’er did show, save when in fight
His weapon makes the hostile heart a sheath,