Till all the tribes united stand
In battle for their native land.”
There are scattered through the poem many passages of minute and skilful description of external nature, and interwoven with the main history is a story of love, resulting, in the end, like most tales of the kind, in the perfect felicity of the parties. Some episodes, by which the narrative is broken, are well-wrought, and the entire poem possesses a deep and sustained interest. The rapid action of the narrative is illustrated by the following passive, descriptive of the last conflict, in which Tecumseh fell:
“Forth at the peal each charger sped,
The hard earth shook beneath their tread,
The dim woods, all around them spread,
Shone with their armor’s light:
Yet in those stern, still lines assailed
No eye-ball shrunk, no bosom quailed,
No foot was turned for flight;