BENJAMIN S. PARKEH. Benjamin S. Paeker was born on the tenth of Februaiy, 1833, in Henry county, Indiana. He spent his boyhood and early manhood on a farm, enjoying common- school advantages for education. Mr. Parker has written for the State Journal, at Indianapolis, and for other papers of his native State, a large number of pleasant poems, many of which are on subjects of Western interest. Still repeating from the prophets, INDIAN GRAVES. And the sachems gray and old. All along the winding river And adown the shady glen, Stories of the south-west Aiden, Curtained all around with gold : On the hill and in the valley, Are the graves of dusky men. Where the good and great Sowanna Calleth all His children home. We are garrulous intruders On the sacred burying grounds Through the hunting grounds eternal. Free as summer winds to roam : Of the Manitou's red children, And the builders of the mounds. Singing wildest songs of wailing For the dead upon their way, Here the powah and the sachem. Here the warrior and the maid. On the four days' journey homeward To the realms of light and day : Sleeping in the dust we tread on, In the forests we invade. Chanting soft and gentle measures, Lays of hope and songs of love, Rest as calmly and as sweetly, As the mummied kings of old, Now like shout of laughing waters, Now like cooing of the dove : Where Gyrene's marble city Guards their consecrated mould. Then, anon, their feet make echo To the war song's fiendish howl, Through the woodland, through the And revenge upon their features meadow. Sets his pandemonian scowl. As in silence oft I walk. Softly whispering on the breezes. Seems to come the red men's talk ; See ! again, the smoke is curling From the friendly calumet. And the club of war is buried. Muttering low and very sweetly And the star of slaughter set. Of the good Great-Spirit's love, That descends like dews of evening. But alas ! imagination, On His children, from above. Ever weaving dream on dream. (6- t3)
