Page:Poems and essays (IA poemsessays00howerich).pdf/28
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22
Acadia.
Implores the God of Sleep his cares to drown;
How oft the anxious child of Commerce tries
To calm his thoughts and close his sleepless eyes,
While Slumber mocks his unavailing prayer,
And seeks the hut to strew its poppies there.
How oft the anxious child of Commerce tries
To calm his thoughts and close his sleepless eyes,
While Slumber mocks his unavailing prayer,
And seeks the hut to strew its poppies there.
Why starts the mother from that soft repose?
What means the horror that her looks disclose ?
Why are her children clasped with eager care,
While Hope seems wildly struggling with Despair?
Why has the father seized the axe and knife,
Like one resolved to combat Death for Life,
And yield no vantage that his arm can hold
Though hungry wolves assail his gentle fold?
Hark to that horrid and soul-piercing yell
That seems the war-cry of a fiend from Hell;
That starts the raven from the lofty pine
On which he closed his wing at day's decline,
And echoing back from the surrounding hills,
The beating hearts in that lone cottage chills;
For Hate, Revenge, and Murder's deepest tone,
Tell them the Micmac's toils are round them thrown.
What means the horror that her looks disclose ?
Why are her children clasped with eager care,
While Hope seems wildly struggling with Despair?
Why has the father seized the axe and knife,
Like one resolved to combat Death for Life,
And yield no vantage that his arm can hold
Though hungry wolves assail his gentle fold?
Hark to that horrid and soul-piercing yell
That seems the war-cry of a fiend from Hell;
That starts the raven from the lofty pine
On which he closed his wing at day's decline,
And echoing back from the surrounding hills,
The beating hearts in that lone cottage chills;
For Hate, Revenge, and Murder's deepest tone,
Tell them the Micmac's toils are round them thrown.
From the wild covert of the forest shade,
By stealthy march their slow approach was made,
Now, by the spreading foliage concealed,
Now, by some sudden op'ning half revealed,
As to the settler's dwelling they drew nigh,
And gazed upon it with malignant eye.
'Twas yet high noon when it appeared in sight,
But for his work the Indian loves the night.
By stealthy march their slow approach was made,
Now, by the spreading foliage concealed,
Now, by some sudden op'ning half revealed,
As to the settler's dwelling they drew nigh,
And gazed upon it with malignant eye.
'Twas yet high noon when it appeared in sight,
But for his work the Indian loves the night.