And still at morning round the farthest sky,
And still at eve his eagle glance is cast,
If there he may behold the far-off mast
Arise, for which he hath not ceased to pray.
And if perchance a ship should come at last,
And bear him from that dismal bank away,
He blesses God that he hath lived to see that day.
6.

So strong a hold hath life upon the soul,
Which sees no dawning of eternal light,
But subject to this mortal frame's control,
Forgetful of its origin and right,

Content in bondage dwells and utter night.
By worthier ties was this poor mother bound
To life; even while her grief was at the height,
Then in maternal love support she found,
And in maternal cares a healing for her wound.

7.

For now her hour is come: a girl is born,
Poor infant, all unconscious of its fate,
How passing strange, how utterly forlorn!
The genial season served to mitigate,
In all it might, their sorrowful estate,
Supplying to the mother, at her door,
From neighbouring trees, which bent beneath
their weight,

A full supply of fruitage now mature;

So in that time of need their sustenance was sure. 8.

Nor then alone, but alway did the Eye
Of Mercy look upon that lonely bower.
Days past, and weeks; and months and years
went by,

And never evil thing the while had power
To enter there. The boy, in sun and shower,
Rejoicing in his strength, to youthhed grew;
And Mooma, that beloved girl, a dower

Of gentleness from bounteous nature drew, With all that should the heart of womankind imbue.

9.

The tears which o'er her infancy were shed Profuse, resented not of grief alone : Maternal love their bitterness allay'd, And with a strength and virtue all its own, Sustain'd the breaking heart. A look, a tone, A gesture of that innocent babe, in eyes With saddest recollections overflown, Would sometimes make a tender smile arise, Like sunshine opening through a shower in vernal skies.

10.

No looks but those of tenderness were found
To turn upon that helpless infant dear;
And as her sense unfolded, never sound
Of wrath or discord brake upon her ear.
Her soul its native purity sincere
Possess'd, by no example here defil'd;
From envious passions free, exempt from fear,
Unknowing of all ill, amid the wild
Beloving and beloved she grew, a happy child.

11.

Yea, where that solitary bower was placed, Though all unlike to Paradise the scene, 'A wide circumference of woodlands waste,)

Something of what in Eden might have been Was shadow'd there imperfectly, I ween, In this fair creature: safe from all offence, Expanding like a shelter'd plant serene, Evils that fret and stain being far from thence, Her heart in peace and joy retain'd its innocence.

12.

At first the infant to Yeruti proved

A cause of wonder and disturbing joy. A stronger tie than that of kindred moved His inmost being, as the happy boy Felt in his heart of hearts, without alloy, The sense of kind: a fellow creature she, In whom, when now she ceased to be a toy For tender sport, his soul rejoiced to see Connatural powers expand, and growing sym. pathy.

13.

For her he cull'd the fairest flowers, and sought Throughout the woods the earliest fruits for her. The cayman's eggs, the honeycomb he brought To this beloved sister,-whatsoe❜er, To his poor thought, of delicate or rare, The wilds might yield, solicitous to find. They who affirm all natural acts declare Self-love to be the ruler of the mind, Judge from their own mean hearts, and foully wrong mankind.

14.

Three souls in whom no selfishness had place Were here; three happy souls, which undefiled Albeit in darkness, still retain'd a trace Of their celestial origin. The wild Was as a sanctuary where Nature smiled Upon these simple children of her own, And, cherishing whate'er was meek and mild, Call'd forth the gentle virtues, such alone, The evils which evoke the stronger being unknown.

15.

What though at birth we bring with us the seed
Of sin, a mortal taint,-in heart and will
Too surely felt, too plainly shown in deed,-
Our fatal heritage; yet are we still
The children of the All Merciful; and ill
They teach, who tell us that from hence must
flow

God's wrath, and then, his justice to fulfil,
Death everlasting, never-ending woe:

O miserable lot of man if it were so!

16.

Falsely and impiously teach they who thus
Our heavenly Father's holy will misread'
In bounty has the Lord created us,

In love redeem'd. From this authentic creed
Let no bewildering sophistry impede
The heart's entire assent, for God is good.
Hold firm this faith, and, in whatever need,
Doubt not but thou wilt find thy soul endued
With all-sufficing strength of heavenly fortitude!

17.

By nature peccable and frail are we,

Easily beguiled; to vice, to error prone; But apt for virtue too. Humanity

Is not a field where tares and thorns alone

By the Great Spirit man was made, she said;
His voice it was which peal'd along the sky,
And shook the heavens, and fill'd the earth
with dread.

Alone and inaccessible, on high
He had his dwelling place eternally,
And Father was his name. This all knew well
But none had seen his face; and if his eye

Regarded what upon the earth befell, Or if he cared for man, she knew not;-who could tell?

29.

But this, she said, was sure-that after death
There was reward, and there was punishment:
And that the evil doers, when the breath
Of their injurious lives at length was spent,
Into all noxious forms abhorr'd were sent,
Of beasts and reptiles; so retaining still,
Their old propensities, on evil bent,

They work'd where'er they might their wicked will,

The natural foes of man, whom we pursue and kill.

30.

Of better spirits, some there were who said That in the grave they had their place of rest. Lightly they laid the earth upon the dead, Lest in its narrow tenement the guest Should suffer underneath such load oppress'd. But that death surely set the spirit free, Sad proof to them poor Monnema address'd, Drawn from their father's fate; no grave had he Wherein his soul might dwell. This therefore could not be.

31.

Likelier they taught who said that to the Land
Of Souls the happy spirit took its flight,
A region underneath the sole command
Of the Good Power; by him for the upright
Appointed and replenish'd with delight:
A land where nothing evil ever came,
Sorrow, nor pain, nor peril, nor affright,
Nor change, nor death; but there the human
frame,

Untouch'd by age or ill, continued still the same. 32.

Winds would not pierce it there, nor heat and cold

Grieve, nor thirst parch, and hunger pine; but there

"The sun by day its even influence hold With genial warmth, and thro' the unclouded air The moon upon her nightly journey fare : The lakes and fish-full streams are never dry; Trees ever green perpetual fruitage bear; And, wheresoe'er the hunter turns his eye, Water, and earth, and heaven, to him their stores supply.

33.

And once there was a way to that good land, For in mid-earth a wondrous Tree there grew, By which the adventurer might, with foot and hand,

From branch to branch his upward course! pursue;

An easy path, if what were said be true, Albeit the ascent was long; and when the height| Was gain'd, that blissful region was in view, Wherein the traveller safely might alight, And roam abroad at will, and take his free delight. 34.

O happy time, when ingress thus was given To the upper world, and at their pleasure they

35.

36.

But that Old Woman, by such wanton wrong
Inflamed, went hurrying down; and in the pride
Of magic power, wherein the crone was strong,
Her human form infirm she laid aside.
Better the Capiguara's limbs supplied
A strength accordant to her fierce intent;
These she assumed, and, burrowing deep and
wide

Beneath the Tree, with vicious will, she went, To inflict upon mankind a lasting punishment.

37.

Downward she wrought her way, and all around
Labouring, the solid earth she undermined,
And loosen'd all the roots; then from the
ground

Emerging, in her hatred of her kind,
Resumed her proper form, and breathed a wind
Which gathered like a tempest round its head:
Eftsoon the lofty Tree its top inclined,
Uptorn with horrible convulsion dread,
And over half the world its mighty wreck lay
spread.

38.

But never scion sprouted from that Tree, Nor seed sprang up; and thus the easy way, Which had till then for young and old been free. Was closed upon the sons of men for aye, The mighty ruin moulder'd where it lay. Till not a trace was left; and now in sooth Almost had all remembrance past away. This from the elders she had heard in youth; Some said it was a tale, and some a very truth.

39.

Nathless departed spirits at their will

Could from the Land of Souls pass to and fro : They come to us in sleep when all is still, Sometimes to warn against the impending blow, Alas! more oft to visit us in woe: Though in their presence there was poor relief! And this had sad experience made her know; For when Quiara came, his stay was brief, And, waking then, she felt a freshen'd sense of grief.

40.

Yet to behold his face again, and hear His voice, though painful, was a deep delight; It was a joy to think that he was near, To see him in the visions of the night,To know that the departed still requite The love which to their memory still will cling: And though he might not bless her waking sight With his dear presence, 'twas a blessed thing That sleep would thus sometimes his actual image bring.

41.

Why comes he not to me? Yeruti cries; And Mooma, echoing with a sigh the thought, Ask'd why it was that to her longing eyes No dream the image of her father brought; Nor Monnema to solve that question sought In vain, content in ignorance to dwell; Perhaps it was because they knew him not; Perhaps but sooth she could not answer well; What the departed did, themselves alone could tell.

42.

What one tribe held, another disbelieved, For all concerning this was dark, she said; Uncertain all, and hard to be received. The dreadful race, from whom their fathers fled, Boasted that even the Country of the Dead Was theirs, and where their Spirits chose to go, The ghosts of other men retired in dread Before the face of that victorious foe; No better, then, the world above, than this below! 43.

What then, alas! if this were true, was death? Only a mournful change from ill to ill! And some there were who said the living breath Would ne'er be taken from us by the will Of the Good Father, but continue still To feed with life the mortal frame he gave, Did not mischance or wicked witchcraft kill ;Evils from which no care avail'd to save, And whereby all were sent to fill the greedy grave.

44.

In vain to counterwork the baleful charm By spells of rival witchcraft was it sought; Less potent was that art to help than harm. No means of safety old experience brought : Nor better fortune did they find who thought From Death, as from some living foe, to fly; For speed or subterfuge avail'd them nought; But wheresoe'er they fled they found him nigh: None ever could elude that unseen enemy.

45.

Bootless the boast, and vain the proud intent Of those who hoped, with arrogant display Of arms and force, to scare him from their tent, As if their threatful shouts and fierce array Of war could drive the Invisible away! Sometimes, regardless of the sufferer's groan, They dragg'd the dying out, and as a prey Exposed him, that, content with him alone, Death might depart, and thus his fate avert their

own.

46.

Depart he might,-but only to return In quest of other victims, soon or late;

When they who held this fond belief, would learn,

Each by his own inevitable fate,

That, in the course of man's uncertain state, Death is the one and only certain thing.

Oh folly then to fly or deprecate

That which, at last, Time, ever on the wing, Certain as day and night, to weary age must bring!

47.

While thus the Matron spake, the youthful twain

Listen'd in deep attention, wistfully; Whether with more of wonder or of pain Uneath it were to tell. With steady eye Intent they heard; and when she paused, a sigh Their sorrowful foreboding seem'd to speak: Questions to which she could not give reply Yeruti ask'd; and for that Maiden meek, Involuntary tears ran down her quiet cheek.

48.

A different sentiment within them stirr'd, When Monnema recall'd to mind, one day, Imperfectly, what she had sometimes heard In childhood, long ago, the Elders say,Almost from memory had it pass'd away,How there appear'd amid the woodlands men Whom the Great Spirit sent there to convey His gracious will; but little heed she then Had given, and like a dream it now recurr'd again.

49.

But these young questioners, from time to time, Call'd up the long-forgotten theme anew. Strange men they were, from some remotest clime,

She said, of different speech, uncouth to view, Having hair upon their face, and white in hue : Across the World of waters wide they came Devotedly the Father's work to do,

And seek the Red Men out, and in his name His merciful laws, and love, and promises proclaim.

50.

They served a Maid more beautiful than tongue
Could tell, or heart conceive. Of human race,
All heavenly as that Virgin was, she sprung;
But for her beauty and celestial grace,
Being one in whose pure elements no trace
Had e'er inhered of sin or mortal stain,
The highest Heaven was now her dwelling
place;

There as a Queen divine she held her reign, And there in endless joy forever would remain. 51.

Her feet upon the crescent Moon were set, And, moving in their order round her head, The Stars compose her sparkling coronet. There at her breast the Virgin Mother fed A Babe divine, who was to judge the dead; Such power the Spirit gave this awful Child: Severe he was, and in his anger dread, Yet alway at his Mother's will grew mild, So well did he obey that Maiden undefiled.

52.

Sometimes she had descended from above To visit her true votaries, and requite