Page:Poems Sigourney, 1834.pdf/16

Transferred as burdens, that the housewife's care
May tend the dairy, or the fleece prepare.
Light-hearted group!—who carol wild and high,
The daisy cull, or chase the butterfly,
Or by some traveller's wheel aroused from play,
The stiff salute, with deep demureness pay,
Bare the curled brow,—or stretch the sunburnt hand,
The home-taught homage of an artless land.
The stranger marks amid their joyous line,
The little baskets whence they hope to dine,
And larger books, as if their dexterous art,
Dealt most nutrition to the noblest part:—
Long may it be, ere luxury teach the shame
To starve the mind, and bloat the unwieldy frame.

    Scorn not this lowly race, ye sons of pride,
Their joys disparage, nor their hopes deride;
From germs like these have mighty statesmen sprung,
Of prudent counsel, and pursuasive tongue;
Unblenching souls, who ruled the willing throng,
Their well-braced nerves, by early labour strong;
Inventive minds, a nation's wealth that wrought,
And white haired sages, sold to studious thought,
Chiefs whose bold step the field of battle trod,
And holy men, who fed the flock of God.

    Here, 'mid the graves by time so sacred made,
The poor, lost Indian slumbers in the shade;—
He, whose canoe with arrowy swiftness clave
In ancient days yon pure, cerulean wave;
Son of that Spirit, whom in storms he traced,
Through darkness followed—and in death embraced,
He sleeps an outlaw 'mid his forfeit land,
And grasps the arrow in his mouldered hand.

    Here, too, our patriot sires with honour rest,
In Freedom's cause who bared the valiant breast;—