Thick as the sparks when prairies are on fire;
Let childhood grasp the weapon of his sire—
Arm, arm for deadly struggle, one and all
While wives and babes to secret haunts retire:
The ghosts of buried fathers on ye call
To guard their ancient tombs from sacrilege or fall!”
Dark forms rose up, and brows began to lower,
While many a savage eye destruction glared;
But one came forth in that portentous hour,
Ere shaft was aimed, or dagger fully bared,