Had the same whispered burden.
Oft they walked
Beside her, when the twilight's tender hour,
Or the young moonlight blendeth kindred hearts,
So perfectly together. But in vain,
For with the stony eye of prejudice
Which gathereth coldness from an angel's smile,
She looked upon their love.
And so they left
Their pagan sister in her Indian home,
And to their native vale of Wyoming,
Turned mournful back. There, often steeped in tears
At morn or evening, rose the tearful prayer
That God would keep alive within her soul
The seed their Maker sowed, and by his grace
So water it, that they might meet in Heaven.
The pleasure of travelling in the State of Pennsylvania, and noticing the abundance of its resources, is heightened by referring to the memory of its benevolent founder, the Man of peace. The scene under the broad shadow of the Elm at Kensington, often rises to view, when, in the autumn of 1682, he executed that treaty with the natives, which has been happily styled, the "only one ever formed without an oath, and the only one that was never broken."
There, with a few followers, unarmed save with the fearlessness of honesty, he met the fierce chieftains, "sudden and quick in quarrel," the tomahawk inured