‘Whether weal or wo betide,’ He of the raven plume replied, ‘Or whether war or death be near, ‘Monarch, I neither know nor fear. ‘My soul ne’er trembled at the sight ‘Of foeman yet in bloodiest fight, ‘Though many a chief, in battle slain, ‘This arm has stretch’d upon the plain. ‘And in thy conflict’s darkest hour, ‘Who rush’d amid the arrowy shower, ‘And met the foremost of the foe, ‘So oft as Opechancanough? ‘And though my nerves may tremble now, ‘And looks of terror clothe my brow, ‘Yet I protest, and may great Okee[D] hear, ‘These signs, that in my looks are blent, ‘Are marks of wild astonishment, ‘But not the work of fear. ‘And wouldst thou know what makes me pale, ‘Monarch, listen to my tale. XI. ‘Soon as the morning sun was seen ‘On bright Pamunky’s banks of green, ‘The silent groves, where sleep the deer, ‘Waked with our hunters’ merry cheer. ‘With echoing whoop and loud halloo ‘We startled soon a nimble doe; ‘And forth she sprang from her darksome lair, ‘And tossing high her head in air, ‘With springing bound, and forward flight, ‘Was soon again beyond our sight. ‘But still, as fleetly on she flew, ‘From hill to hill we caught a view, ‘Nor lost her course, till on the shore ‘Where Chesapeake’s white surges roar, ‘We stood--and saw a sight display’d, ‘That fill’d us with amaze; ‘The deer unhunted sought the shade, ‘And we were left to gaze. ‘Spirits that dart athwart the sky, ‘When forked lightnings gleam and fly; ‘And gods that thunder in the air, ‘And cleave the oak and kill the bear; ‘And beings that control the deep, ‘Where crocodiles and serpents sleep; ‘And powers that on the mountains stand, ‘With storm and tempest in their hand; ‘And forms that ride on cloudy cars, ‘And sail among the midnight stars;-- ‘The whole dread group that move in might, ‘Unless some spell deceived our sight, ‘We surely saw in league to-day ‘On the bright bosom of the bay. ‘Whether for sport, in social mood, ‘They met to sail upon the flood; ‘Or bent on deeds of high design, ‘They sought their forces to combine; ‘Whether they came to blast or bless, ‘We did not learn, nor could we guess. ‘Their shallop was a stately thing, ‘And gaily moved in lofty pride, ‘Like a mountain eagle on the wing, ‘Or swan upon the river tide. ‘And three tall spires the shallop bore, ‘That tower’d above our forest trees, ‘And each a blood-red streamer wore, ‘That floated idly on the breeze. ‘And thrice in awful majesty ‘They sail’d across that deep, broad bay; ‘And as they turn’d from either shore, ‘We heard the heavy thunders roar, ‘And saw the lightnings flashing wide ‘From out their mammoth shallop’s side; ‘And then a cloud of smoky hue ‘Around her waist arose to view;