All O-kis-ko's love and courage
Could not give him greater knowledge.
Savage mind could not unravel
All the meaning of this marvel. Fear forbade him touch the arrow
Lest he should destroy the green shoot;
So he left the tender leaflets
Reaching upward to the sunlight,
Sought again the lifeless maiden
For whose love his soul had hungered;
Knelt beside her in the forest,
With the awe of death upon him,
Which in heathen as in Christian
Moves the human soul to worship.
All his faith in savage magic
Turned to frenzy at his failure;
And the helplessness of mortals
Pressed upon him like a burden;
While a mighty longing seized him
For a knowledge of the Unknown,
For a light to pierce the Silence
Into which none enter living.
And unconsciously his spirit
Rose in quest of Might Supernal,
Which should rule both dead and living,
Leaving naught to chance or magic;
Which should seize the throbbing pulses
Ebbing from a dying mortal,
And create a higher being Free from thrall of earthly nature;
Almost grasping in his yearning
Knowledge of the God Eternal,
In whose hand the earth lies helpless,
In whose heart all souls find refuge.
But no light came to O-kis-ko;
Still the burden pressed upon him,
And a pall of hopeless yearning
Wrapped his soul in voiceless sorrow
As he gazed upon the maiden
With death's mysteries enfolded.
Then he made upon her bosom
The strange Cross-Sign she had taught him;
From his shoulders took the mantle
Made of skins of many sea-gulls,
Gently wrapped the maiden in it,
Heaped the tinted leaves about her;
Leaving all his own life's brightness
With her where the shadows darkened.
Thus the ancient legend runneth, with its plaint of hopeless doom,
Bearing in its heart the fragrance of the Truth's enduring bloom, Standing in the light of knowledge, where developed ages meet,
We can read the mystic omens which O-kis-ko's eyes did greet.
And to us they seem the symbols of what coming ages brought,
Realization gives the answer, which in vain the Savage sought.
For we know the silver arrow, fatal to all sorcery,
Was the gleaming light of Progress speeding from across the sea,
Before which the Red Man vanished, shrinking from its silvery light
As the magic waters yielded to the silver arrow's blight.
And the tiny shoot with leaflets, by the sunlight warmed to life,
Was the Vine of Civilization in the wilderness of strife;
With no friendly hand to tend it, yet it grew midst slight and wrong,
Taking root in other places,[AC]—growing green, and broad, and strong, Till its vigor knew no weakness, with its branches flower-fraught,
Till a prosp'rous land it sheltered where th' oppressed a refuge sought,
Till its fruit made all who labored 'neath its shade both bold and free,
Till a people dwelt beneath it strong to meet their destiny.
Now beneath its spreading branches dwells a nation brave and free,
Raising glad, triumphant pæans for the boon of Liberty;
Holding fast the Holy Cross-Sign,—Heirs of Duty and of Light,—
Still they speed the arrow, Progress, on its civilizing flight;
Keeping bright the Fires of Freedom, where Man, Brotherhood may know,
For God's breath upon the altar keeps the sacred flame aglow.
FOOTNOTES:
[AC] Jamestown and Plymouth Rock.