THE ARGUMENT.

Edward, the hero of the Poem, lands upon the Ame rican Continent, where he falls in with a party of Indians in pursuit of the Elk: a beautiful young Squa calls upon him to join the chase, in which he acquiesces. He, for the first time, sleeps in an Indian camp; has a dream persuading him to renounce civil society, and join the Indians. After breakfast he addresses himself to the Indian King, who in reply explains the nature of the laws and manners of the Tribe. Edward, being charmed with the King's speech, is made a convert, and determines to become an Indian. He throws all his clothes into a river; and, while swimming there, Susannah the King's daughter tosses a basket into the stream, in which Edward finds a complete Indian dress, which he immediately puts on, and returns to the camp as one of the Tribe.

THE INDIAN.

CANTO I.

W

HAT men are found beyond th' Atlantic main;
What worth, or bliss, the Indian wilds contain;
Describe, O Muse, their manners and their clime,
Yet unrecorded from the first of time-
Their origin obscure; descent untrac'd;

Sing the rude glories of the savage waste.
Far from the pleasures of Britannia's isle
A wandering Hero would his cares beguile.
The fates conspiring, from his country bore
The youthful Edward to Columbia's shore;

5

10

Where in extremes the God of Seasons sways With Winter snows, or Summer's scorching rays; Where lofty pines their neighbouring trees despise, And with disdain in awful grandeur rise.

Unfriended, pensive, on the beach he stood, 15
And listen'd a noise that rung th' adjacent wood:
No murderous screams the fleeting moments stain'd,
Nor cries of help the soften'd bosom pain'd;

But sounds of mirth th' echoing waste resound,
And from the shades the branching elks rebound, 20
Pursued by dogs that love the bloody chase,
And savage men that own the Indian race.

Amidst the group a lovely Squa* appears,

Whose song of joy the fainting huntsman cheers; On Edward's form she turn'd her eagle eye. 25 Thus as she spoke, spontaneous rose a sigh:

"Here, stranger, take now from my virgin hand This royal spear that won my father's land;

* A female Indian, married or unmarried.

Join our glad chase where only heroes run

With strength unwearied till the setting sun." 30

Quick at her call, fleet Edward sprung away,

The silvan nymph's prompt dictates to obey.

With pliant limbs he heads the roaring ox,

And wheels him downwards 'midst the flinty rocks!
And from his hand the barbed steel lets fly,

While chiefs contending in the slaughter vie.
Insatiate dogs, with men, the circle press,

35

And savage tongues the stranger's worth confess.
The evening sun his splendid tinge displays,
And gilds a world where no proud master sways. 40
The homely whigwhams* rise in order gay,
Whose cheerful fires dispel the toils of day;

While roasted steaks the hungry bosoms warm,
And lighted pipes the Indian heroes charm;
Green boughs of spruce rough carpets soon supply,
And sheets of bark the utmost storm defy;

* Indian tents covered with the bark of the birch-tree.

46

Untutor'd breasts the friendly ties uphold,
By Nature wise, beyond the thirst of gold.
'Tis here around the low and simple scene,
A hearty welcome dares for ever reign;
Benighted strangers eat the food of chance,
Forget their cares, and join the sprightly dance.
Such was the fare, and such the race he found
Stretch'd out, contented, on the leafy ground.

50

Here faithful dogs their midnight watches keep, 55
While in the tents exhausted spirits sleep;

Tho' Morpheus chains our Edward's frame confine,
Yet mind immortal shuns the powers supine !
Lo, in his dreams an ancient Sage appears,

Whose hoary head bespoke a length of years. 60
Mark'd on his brow Experience held her place,
Yet his worn features show'd a cheerful face;
One weighty gun oppress'd a tott'ring frame,

And his broad girdle slung a bunch of game;