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to live with you', but for the injuries of one man'. Colonel Cresap', last spring', in cold blood', and unprovoked', murdered all the relatives of Logan', not sparing even my women and children'. There runs not a drop of my blood in the veins of any living creature'. This called on me for revenge'. I have sought it'. I have killed many'. I have fully glutted my vengeance'. For my country', I rejoice at the beams of peace': but do not harbour a thought that mine is the joy of fear': Logan never felt fear'. He will not turn on his heel'... to save his life. Who is there to mourn for Logan'? Not one'.”

SECTION XIV.

Speech of Farmer's Brother.

THE sachems', chiefs', and warriours of the Seneca nation', to the sachems and chiefs assembled about the great council-fire of the state of New-York.

Brothers'-As you are once more assembled in council', for the purpose of doing honour to yourselves and justice to your country', we', your brothers', the sachems', chiefs', and warriours of the Seneca nation', request you to open your ears', and give attention to our voice and wishes'.

Brothers'-You will recollect the late contest between you and your father', the great king of England'. This contest threw the inhabitants of the whole island into a great tumult and commotion', like a raging whirlwind', which tears up the trees', and tosses to and fro the leaves', so that no one knows whence they come', or when they will fall'.

Brothers-This whirlwind was so directed by the Great Spirit', as to throw into our arms two of your infant children', Jasper Parrish' and Horatio Jones'. We adopted them into our families', and made them our children'. We loved them', and nourished them'. They lived with us many years'. At length the Great Spirit spoke to the whirlwind'... and it was_still'.* A clear and uninterrupted sky appeared'. The path of peace was opened', and the chain of friendship was once more made bright'. Then these', our adopted children', left us to seek their relatives'. We wished them to remain among us', and promised', if they would return and live in our country', to give •Me. In-hab'è 'tants-not, tunts. In'fânt. Tshil'dren-not, drun.

• God said, Let there be light; and there was light.

each of them a seat of land for them and their children to set down upon'.

Brothers-They have returned', and have', for several years past', been serviceable to us as interpreters'. We still feel our hearts beat with affection for them', and now wish to fulfil the promise we made them', and to reward them for their services'. We have therefore made up our minds to give them a seat of two square miles of land lying on the outlet of Lake Erie', about three miles below Black-Rock'.

Brothers'-We have now made known to you our minds'. We expect', and earnestly request', that you will permit our friends to receive this our gift', and will make the same good to them', according to the laws and customs of your nation'.

Brothers'-Why should you hesitate to make our minds easy with regard to this our request'? To you it is but a little thing'; and have you not complied with the request', and confirmed the gift', of our brothers', the Oneidas', the Onondagas', and the Cayugas', to their interpreters'? and shall we ask', and not be heard'?

Brothers'-We send you this our speech', to which we expect your answer before the breaking up of your great councilfire'.

SECTION XV.

Red Jacket; a Chief of the Indian Tribe, the Senecas.*

HALLECK.

COOPER', whose name is with his country's wôven',
First in her files', her pioneer of mind',

A wanderer now in other climes', has proven'
His love for the young land he left behind';

And throned her in the senate-hall of nations',
Robed like the deluge rainbow', heaven-wrought',
Magnificent as his own mind's creations',

And beautiful as its green world of thought'.

And', faithful to the act of congress', quoted'
As law authority'-it passed nem. con.'+-
He writes', that we are', as ourselves have voted',
The most enlightened people ever known':

That all our week is happy as a Sunday'

In Paris', full of song, and dance', and laugh';
And that', from Orleans to the bay of Fundy',
There's not a bailiff', nor an epitaph.

From Bliss' Talisman, 1829.

Nemine contra dicente, no one contradicting.

And', furthermore'-in fifty years', or sooner,
We shall export our poetry and wine',

And our brave fleet', eight frigates and a schooner',
Will sweep the seas from Zembla to the line'.

If he were with me', king of Tuscarora',
Gazing', as I', upon thy portrait now';

In all its medalled, fringed, and beaded glory',
Its eye's dark beauty', and its thoughtful brow—

Its brow', half martial', and half diplomatick',
Its eye', upsoaring like an eagle's wings';
Well might he boast', that we', the democratick',
Outrival'.. Europe', even'.. in our kings'.

For thou wert monarch bôrn'. Tradition's pages'
Tell not the planting of thy parent tree',
But', that the forest-tribes have bent', for ages',
To thee and to thy sires the subject knee'.

Thy name is princely'.-Though no poet's magick'
Could make Red Jacket grace an English rhyme',
Unless he had a genius for the tragick',

And introduced it in a pantomime';

Yet', it is musick in the language spoken'
Of thine own land'; and on her herald-roll',
As nobly fought for', and as proud a token'
As Cœur de Lion's',* of a warriour's soul'.

Thy garb'-though Austria's bosom-star would frighten'
That medal pâle', as diamonds the dark mine',
And George the Fourth wore', in the dance at Brighton',
A more becoming evening dress than thine';

Yet', 'tis a brave one', scorning wind and weather',
And fitted for thy couch on field and flood',
As Rob Roy's tartans', for the Highland heather',
Or forest-green', for England's Robin Hood'.

Is strength a monarch's merit'? (like a whaler's'?)
Thou art as tall', as sinewy', and as strong'
As earth's first kings'-the Argo's gallant sailors',
Heroes in history', and gods in song'.

Is eloquence'? Her spell is thine that reaches'

The heart', and makes the wisest head its sport';
And there's one rare', strange virtue in thy speeches',
The secret of their mastery'-they are short'.

Is beauty'? Thine has with thy youth departed',
But the love-legends of thy manhood's years',
And she', who perished', young and broken-hearted',
Are'-but I rhyme for smiles', and not for tears'.

•På'rènt—not, pår'unt. *Keur de Lion, the heart of a lion.

The monarch mind'-the mystery of commanding',
The godlike power', the art Napoleon',

Of winning', fettering', moulding', wielding', banding'
The hearts of millions till they move as one';

Thou hast it'. At thy bidding men have crowded'
The road to death as to a festival';

And minstrel minds', without a blush', have shrouded'
With banner-folds of glory their dark pall'.

Who will believe'-not I'-for in deceiving',
Lies the dear charm of life's delightful dream';
I cannot spare the luxury of believing

That all things beaûtiful are what they seem'.

Who will believe', that', with a smile whose blessing
Would', like the patriarch's', sooth a dying hour';
With voice', as low', as gentle', and caressing',

As e'erb won maiden's lip in moonlight bower';

With look', like patient Job's', eschewing evil';
With motions', graceful as a bird's in air';
Thou art', in sober truth', the veriest'... DEVIL'
That e'erb cilnched fingers in a captive's hair'?
That', in thy veins there springs a poison fountain',
Deadlier than that which bathes the Upas tree';
And in thy wrath', a nursing cat o' the mountain'
Is calm as her babe's sleep', compared with thee'?
And underneath that face', like summer's ocean's',
Its lip as moveless', and its cheek as clear',
Slumbers a whirlwind of the heart's emotions'-
Love', hatred', pride', hope', sorrow'-all', save fear'.

Love'-for thy land, as if she wered thy daughter',
Her pipes in peace', her tomahawk in wars';
Hatred of missionaries and cold water';

Pride'-in thy rifle trophiese and thy scars';

Hope'-that thy wrongs will be', by the Great Spirit',
Remembered and revenged when thou art gone';
Sorrow'-that none are left thee to inherit'

Thy name', thy fame', thy passions', and thy throne

SECTION XVI.

Psalm 90.

God eternal, and Man mortal.

LORD', thou hast been our dwelling-place in all generations'. Before the mountains were brought forth', or ever thou hadst

På tre årks. åre. Es-tshỏd'ing. Wêr. Trò'fiz. Mounting -not, mount'nz.

formed the earth and the world', even from everlasting to ever lasting', thou art God'.

Thou turnest man to destruction'; and sayest', " Retûrn', ye children of men'." For a thousand years in thy sight', are but as yesterday when it is past', and as a watch in the night. Thou carriest men away as with a flood'. They are as a sleep': in the morning', they are like grass which groweth up': in the morning it flourisheth', and groweth up'; in the evening it is cut down', and withereth'. For we are consumed by thine anger', and by thy wrath are we troubled'.

Thou hast set our iniquities before thee', our secret sins in the light of thy countenance'. For all our days are passed away in thy wrath': we spend our years as a tale that is told'. The days of our years are threescore years and ten'; and if', by reason of strength', they be fourscore years', yet is their strength labour and sorrow'; for it is soon cut off, and we fly away'.

Who knoweth the power of thine anger'? Even according to thy fear', so is thy wrath'. So teach us to number our days that we may apply our hearts unto wisdom'.

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THROUGH every age', eternal God',
Thou art our rest', our safe abode':

High was thy throne ere heaven was made',
Or earth', thy humble footstool', laid'.

Long hadst thou reigned ereb time began',
Or dust was fashioned into man';

And long thy kingdom shall endure',
When earth and time shall be no more'.

But man', weak man', is born to die',
Made up of guilt and vanity':
Thy dreadful sentence', Lord', was just',
"Retûrn', ye sinners', to your dust`."

A thousand of our years amount'
Scarce to a day in thine account';
Like yesterday's departed light',
Or the last watch of ending night'.

Death', like an overflowing stream',
Sweeps us away: our life's a dream',
An empty tale', a morning flower',
Cut down and withered in an hour'.

•Thot zand—not, thouzn. bare. Sẻntense—not, sentunse.

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