* * * * *
From Susquehanna's utmost springs,
Where savage tribes pursue their game,
His blanket tied with yellow strings,
A shepherd of the forest came.
Not long before, a wandering priest
Express'd his wish with visage sad—
'Ah, why,' he cry'd, 'in Satan's waste,
'Ah, why detain so fine a lad?
'In Yanky land there stands a town
'Where learning may be purchas'd low—
'Exchange his blanket for a gown,
'And let the lad to college go.'
From long debate the council rose,
And viewing Shalum's tricks with joy,
To Harvard hall[1], o'er wastes of snows,
They sent the copper-colour'd boy.
[Footnote 1: Harvard college, at Cambridge, near Boston.]
One generous chief a bow supply'd,
This gave a shaft, and that a skin;
The feathers, in vermilion dy'd,
Himself did from a turkey win:
Thus dress'd so gay, he took his way
O'er barren hills, alone, alone!
His guide a star, he wander'd far,
His pillow every night a stone.
At last he came, with leg so lame,
Where learned men talk heathen Greek,
And hebrew lore is gabbled o'er,
To please the muses, twice a week.
A while he writ, a while he read,
A while he learn'd the grammar rules.—
An indian savage, so well bred,
Great credit promis'd to their schools.
Some thought, he would in law excel,
Some said, in physic he would shine;
And one, that knew him passing well,
Beheld in him a sound divine.