From manly virtue,—or the tempting world
Make faint the christian purpose in your soul,
Turn ye to Plymouth's beach,—and on that rock
Kneel in their foot-prints, and renew the vow
They breath'd to God.
REMONSTRANCE OF THE CREEK INDIANS
AGAINST BEING REMOVED FROM THEIR OWN TERRITORY.
See ye those mounds so green and fair,
Where rest the dews, where smiles the sky?
There sleeps our father's dust, and there
Our own shall lie.
See ye these vales? Our children rose
Like plants within their peaceful glade,
And where our lifeless forms repose
Shall theirs be laid.
Dark are their brows, and wild they rove
Unnurtur'd o'er their native earth,
Yet deep their rugged bosoms love
Their land of birth.
Drive them not hence!—they only ask
Their humble cabin's roof to rear,
And ply the hunter's dangerous task
With toil severe:—
To sow with corn the furrow'd glade,
Dejected sigh o'er buried years,
And sooth their frowning heroes' shade,
With bitter tears.
