The Prophet gaz'd upon the bloodless sage,
And reverenc'd the divinity of age;

Were he an infant still his blood should flow,
For helpless babes to sturdy warriors grow;
But time can ne'er the old man's strength restore,

Or wake the sleeping vigour of fourscore.

“Old man!” he roughly cried, "what makes ye here,

"Dost not the wolf or bloody Indian fear;

"For bloody is the word the whites bestow

"On those who fight, the only way they know ?"

"I go," replied the gracious, aged man,
life's short span,

"To spend the remnant of my

"In preaching truth to Nature's erring child,
"That roams in darkness through the desert wild,
"The Bible's holy eloquence to speak,

“And teach the red-man, our true God to seek.”

"Your God! the bitter mockery withhold— "Your God! you have no other god than gold! "For this," the maniac cried,-" for this alone, "You bow before your Godhead's gilded throne ; "For this you murder, plunder, cheat, defame, "With false aspersions blast your brother's name; "Sell mothers, daughters, nay, your very wives, "Barter religion, trade in human lives;

"Break Heaven's high mandates, spurn the law's con

trol,

"And stake 'gainst money an immortal soul!

say,

"Come not to our lone woods, old man, I
"But bear your crazy frame some other way;
"And ere for distant converts thus you roam,
"See if there's nothing left to do at home:
"There, if thou wilt, thy nursery tales unfold,

Till every soul fall down and worship gold-
"The Saviour of thy race died not for us,
"He died to be the Indian's lasting curse."

"Mistaken man !"-the graybeard mildly cried;

"For thee, and us, alike the Saviour died!

"Look-the kind Christian, whom thou would'st de

stroy,

"Shall lead thee to bright paths of peace and joy, "The arts of life, and social comforts teach, "And happiness beyond thy fancy's reach; "Show thee to plough the yet uncultur'd field, "And reap in peace whatever prize it yield; "Make thy dark intellect with light to glow, "And taste the sweets of knowing what we know ; "Give present comfort here, and future bliss "In a far lovelier paradise than this;

"Make thee a man while living, and when dead "An angel, in the realms where angels tread."

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Accurs'd," exclaim'd the maniac, "be thy care"I know what things your Christian Indians are! "O! I have seen them naked and forlorn,

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Of every attribute of manhood shorn;

"Skulking from town to town, a worthless race,
"Earning the wages of their deep disgrace,
"Shooting for liquor with the selfsame bow,

“That laid the red-man of the forest low;

And, sunk beneath the lowest Christian knave, "Take kicks and buffets from the white-man's slave. These are the product of your Christian love, "Men while on earth, and angels when above! Now what are we, who in the woodlands reign,

"The lords of all the skulking forest train; "Who through long trackless wilds pursue the deer, "And live in dangers all the rolling year?

"Are we not men who know no other trade,

"Than war and hunting, sports for warriors made; "Who though nor guide nor compass point the way, "Track beast or man, where'er they chance to stray; "Ev'n though the white-man, with his purblind eyes, "No vestige of a passing footstep spies? "Who tell each hour of day or pitchy night,

"When sun and twinkling stars deny their light; "Fight to the last, and when at length o'erthrown, "Tortures endure, and die without a groan

?

"Tell me, wise graybeard-those that do these things, "Are they not men, and worthy to be kings?"

"True," cried the old man, "ye are men, I know, "Men that disgrace their Maker, here below; "Whose gods are imps red hot from scorching Hell, "Whose paradise, where store of beavers dwell;

"Whose mercy is the captive wretch to tear,
"Whose pride, the bloody dripping scalp to wear;
"To howl around where some poor victim lies,
"Shriv❜ling in fires, and by slow inches dies.
"Alas! the ruthless thing that never spares,
"Is not a man, though manhood's form he wears;
"He does belie the mercy of sweet Heav'n,
“And damns himself, by prayers to be forgiv'n."
"And dost thou prate of mercy! O, full well,
"Of Christian mercies can our Indians tell!

"You spar'd their lives, to drive them from their home, "Like scouting beasts in distant wilds to roam; “You did not kill them, like a generous foe, "And end their sufferings with one manly blow; "You spar'd them for long exile, and disgraceSpar'd them to see the ruin of their race—

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Spar'd them for keener tortures, woes more dire "Than scalping-knife, or slow consuming fire. "We view such trifles with unflinching eye, ""Tis nothing for a warrior thus to die; "But I-old man, if thou hadst ten times died, "Thou ne'er hadst known the suff'rings I abide, "That shrivel this tough heart with woes so keen,

They make me wish that I had never been.

"Look!-if the waning lamp of thine old eye "Gives light enough far objects to descry

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'Look, what a peaceful scene, how mild, how fair, "Bares its sweet bosom to the cooling air!

"Canst see the noiseless wave unruffled glide "Round yonder isle that parts its gentle tide, "Whose fringed shore reflected in the stream, "Like shadowy land of souls, far off does seem? "Dost see yon moon, like sky-hung Indian bow, "Across the wave a line of radiance throw, "That seems a silver bridge, perchance to guide "The wand'ring soul across the rippling tide, "To that fair isle, whose soften'd landscapes show green and pleasant in the wave below? "Think-hadst thou dwelt in such a smiling land, "Cherish'd, and cherishing a brother band; "Not one of whom from foe did ever flee,

"So

"Not one of whom but would have died for thee"Think, hadst thou tasted all the pleasures here, "That habit and long uses make so dear; "All other modes of living but thine own, "All other happiness to thee unknown; "Still following up the paths thy fathers trod, "Still worshipping thy fathers' ancient God— “Think, had some roving band of red-men came, "And wrapt thy dwellings in wide-wasting flame, "With bloody might cleft down thy helpless race, "And left thee without friend or biding place, "Because thou didst not choose to roam the wild, "And live the life so dear to Nature's child"Wouldst thou-aye, wouldst thou then his mercy praise,

"That he did lengthen out thy doleful days,