And knives, that Christian blood had shed, END OF CANTO SECOND. YONNONDIO. CANTO THIRD. THE WAR DANCE. Wake, children of Genundewah! the cry The spirits of the dead are rushing by, And white-haired seers are prophesying bale: The Dove of Peace hath left our lovely valeGreat Yonnondio leads the host of France, And in the coming battle will prevail, If we neglect to sharpen knife and lance, And round the red post wheel, in war's terrific dance. Swear that the foe's insulting foot shall not Where the white bones of their forefathers rest. The Land of Shadows, in the clear south-west, Hath hunting grounds known only to the just, G And the red warrior of the dauntless breast: Snatch, then, the buried tomahawk from dust, And clothe its blade, once more, in battle's gory crust. I. De Grai, in Christian Court, had seen Clad in appareling whose sheen II. Stern Time, in robbing form and face Unwasted were by length of days: His form commanding and unbowed, Without one bough decayed or dead, In dust to hurl his honors down Asunder rend his arms of pride, And scatter to the winds his crown. III. “The bear-skin for Od-deen-yo* spread," And far beyond the Salt-Lake born; He is a Seneca in soul, For sundering the filial band That bound him to his native land, *White Chief.. Here, where the herding red-deer roam, De Grai the seat assigned him took, For murmurs ran the circle round, And many a warrior gaunt and grim, His teeth, in half-hushed anger, ground, And scowled with fiendish hate on him. Some, from long pipes of purple stain Significant of battle, smoked; And plumes that decked each stem of cane And others from their girdles drew Adorned with shell and wampum-bead; And fragrant clouds rose blue and wreathed, While through the hollow haft they breathed The vapors of the weed. IV. On bosoms bare the figures rude While blood was emptied out like wine Bore, on bright bannaret and shield, |