The loathsome messenger of wo and death True to his dark and awful mission wound, Polluting air with his envenom'd breath, Huge folds the palisadoed camp around: Crouched at his master's feet the faithful hound, And raised a piteous and despairing cry; No outlet of escape the mother found For her imploring infants, and on high Lifted her trembling hands in voiceless agony. VI. Forming a hideous circle at the gate The reptile's head and tail together lay; Distended were the fang-set jaws in wait For victims, thus beleaguered, night and day; And not unlike the red and angry ray Shot by the bearded comet was the light Of his unslumbering eye that watched for prey; His burnished mail flashed back the sunshine bright, And round him pale the woods grew with untimely blight. VII. When famine raged within their guarded hold, And wan distemper thinn'd their numbers fast, Crowding the narrow gateway young and old With the fixed look of desperation passed From life to dreadful death--a charnel vast-- The reptile's yawning throat entombed the strong, And lovely of the Tribe:--remained at last Two lovers only of that mighty throng To chaunt with feeble voice a nation's funeral song. VIII. Comely to look on was the youthful pair:-- One, like the mountain pine erect and tall, Was of imposing presence;--his dark hair Had caught its hue from night's descending pall; Light was his tread--his port majestical, And well his kingly brow became a form Of matchless beauty:--like the rise and fall Of a strong billow in the hour of storm Beat his undaunted heart with glory's impulse warm. IX. Graced was his belt by beads of dazzling sheen And painted quills--the handiwork of one Dearer than life to him;--though he had seen From the gray hills, beneath a wasting sun, Only the snows of twenty winters run, The warrior's right his scalp lock to adorn With eagle plumes in battle he had won: O'erjoyed were prophets old when he was born, And hailed him with one voice "_First Sunbeam of the Morn_." X. The other!--what of her?--bright shapes beyond This darkened earth wear looks like those she wore; Graceful her mien as lilly of the pond That nods to every wind that passes o'er Its fragrant head a welcome:--never more By loveliness so rare will earth be blest; Softer than ripple breaking on the shore By moonlight was her voice, and in her breast Pure thought a dwelling found--the Bird of Love a nest. XI.