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SUMMER ON THE LAKES.
| Their linked sweetness as our thoughts pursue, |
| We deem them spoken pearls, or radiant diamond dew. |
| And never yet did I admire the power |
| Which makes so lustrous every threadbare theme — |
| Which won for Lafayette one other hour, |
| And e'en on July Fourth could cast a gleam — |
| As now, when I behold him play the host, |
| With all the dignity which red men boast — |
| With all the courtesy the whites have lost; — |
| Assume the very hue of savage mind, |
| Yet in rude accents show the thought refined; — |
| Assume the naiveté of infant age, |
| And in such prattle seem still more a sage; |
| The golden mean with tact unerring seized, |
| A courtly critic shone, a simple savage pleased; |
| The stoic of the woods his skill confessed, |
| As all the Father answered in his breast, |
| To the sure mark the silver arrow sped, |
| The man without a tear a tear has shed; |
| And thou hadst wept, hadst thou been there, to see |
| How true one sentiment must ever be, |
| In court or camp, the city or the wild, |
| To rouse the Father's heart, you need but name his Child. |
| 'T was a fair scene — and acted well by all; |
| So here's a health to Indian braves so tall — |
| Our Governor and Boston people all! |
I will copy the admirable speech of Governor
Everett on that occasion, as I think it the happiest
attempt ever made to meet the Indian in his own way,
and catch the tone of his mind. It was said, in the
