90
LIVINGSTONE IN AFRICA.
But I behold there, on high poles exposed,
White skulls of strangers, whom the savage hordes
Of river-pirates most inhumanly
Slew: these barbarians the Makololo,
Sebituane, routed and destroy'd;
Planting his own Bechuana speech abroad
Among the nations; opening thereby
A way wherein our Sacred Oracles
May march triumphant, blessing all the land;
Since Moffat arduously render'd them
Into a heretofore unletter'd tongue.
By moonlight, or by starlight, when we pause
Upon the river's bosom, ah! how fair!
Shadowy fruits and flowers in elf-light hanging;
Plaintive low voices floating tenderly.
One waking here, in slumber borne from far,
Would deem he had died in sleep, and was in
heaven.
Alas! all fair dreams fade, and this would fade!
