Years of intense suffering, of harrowing bereavement, of insult, humiliation, and every species of mental and social distress, were yet appointed to the daughter of Montezuma, the bride of Guatimozin. Her predicted destiny was fulfilled to the letter. She bowed meekly to her fate, sustaining every reverse with a fortitude and composure of soul, that indicated a mind of uncommon resources. It was a long, dark, stormy day, “but in the evening time there was light.” It was the light of faith. She abandoned the false gods of her fathers, and found true and lasting peace in the cross of Jesus Christ.
THE FLIGHT
OF
THE KATAHBA CHIEF.
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Go now to Greece, Or Rome—to Albion’s sea-girt isle—to Gaul, Ancient or modern—to the fiery realm Of Turk or Arab—to the ice-bound holds Of Alaric and Attila—and find, If find thou canst, a nobler race of men— More firm, more brave, more true—swifter of foot, Or readier in action. |