“I mark the smile of taunting Scorn,
“And curse the hour, when I was born!
“I weep, but no one gently tries
“To stop my tear, or check my sighs;
“For, while my heart beats mournfully,
“Dear Indian home, I sigh for Thee!
II.
“Since, gaudy Sun! I see no more
“Thy hottest glory gild the day;
“Since, sever’d from my burning shore,