‘And hid him from the light of day. ‘The stubborn oak that stood in pride, ‘And all the thunderer’s wrath defied, ‘By one red lightning stroke was riven, ‘Like mist before the tempest driven. ‘The tribes collected in their might, ‘To glut themselves with wreakful fight, ‘And swift their darts of bloody vengeance hurl’d, ‘And Madoc and his host were wither’d from the world.{6} ‘Some race of men like these, I ween, ‘Those beings are, which thou hast seen; ‘And something whispers in my ear, ‘Those beings must not linger here. ‘And, chieftain, list now what I say; ‘Hear my direction, and obey. ‘When first to-morrow’s golden light ‘Beams on the sable brow of night, ‘What time the wild-birds wake the glen, ‘Collect thy wisest, bravest men, ‘And with them straight to Paspahey repair, ‘And learn both who and whence these strange intruders are. ‘Unto their pale-face leader show{7} ‘The pipe of peace and warlike bow;’ ‘Nor fail withal to let them plainly know, ‘We’ve calumets for friends, and arrows for a foe.’ XIV. Here paused the sage, and waved his hand, The fiat of his high command-- ‘Monarch, thy will shall be obey’d,’ Was all the plumed chieftain said, As round his brawny limbs he drew{8} His feathery mantle, broad and blue, And left the hall with lofty mein, Plunged in the grove, nor more was seen. END OF CANTO FIRST. CANTO SECOND. I. Softly and light the moonbeams fell Upon that forest-cinctur’d cell, Whose wicker walls were mottled brown Where shadows of the trees came down, And gently moved and quiver’d there, Like spirits dancing in the air. A stout and trusty guard was placed{9} Around the lodge, whose hands embraced The battle-axe or bended bow, Ready to meet a coming foe; And silent as the stars of night They watch’d from dusk till dawning light. Hush’d were the echoes of the grove, Where feeding deer in quiet rove; The softly whispering zephyr’s breath Came by with a stillness next to death, And silence hover’d with noiseless wing Over the monarch slumbering. Slept Powhatan? Why think it strange? Terror in him could work no change; For he had seen too much of life To heed the approach of toil or strife; In perilous vicissitude grown old, He now could calmly rest though thunders round him roll’d. II.