The listening throng, with awe profound, Of every word drank in the sound; The voice of Powhatan was law;{11} But in that glittering pile they saw A charm that had a magic power They never felt before that hour. The monarch saw their kindling fire, And yielded to their strong desire, And when again they form’d the ring, He gravely bade Pamunky’s king Dispense the gifts, and see with care That each received his proper share. The chiefs, in dazzling toys array’d, Each other with delight survey’d, And turn’d their trinkets in the light, And danced for joy at the very sight. The war-cloud from their brows was chased, And the pale-face foes had been embraced As friends and brothers, had they been But in that hall of council then. But Powhatan’s dark eye of flame Their ecstacy began to tame, And when again his voice was heard No word was spoke, no foot was stirr’d, While he made known his sovereign will, And bade them every word fulfil. He charged them all to sleep at night On tomahawk and bow, And to watch by day with eagle eye The footsteps of the foe; To keep their arrows pointed well, Their bow-strings strong and sure, And see that among them friendship’s chain Was ever bright and pure: And then with royal majesty His mantle around him threw, And cross’d the hall with stately step, And silently withdrew. XIV. The warrior train soon sunk to rest On deer-skins spread around; Each sleeper’s bow was in his hand, But his sleep was deep and sound. And now along the eastern sky The day begins to dawn; Now twilight breaks upon the hills, Now on the dewy lawn; And now across the brightening groves The sun has pour’d his ray, And now those warrior chiefs are up, And each is on his way, Through rugged woods, by the winding stream, And across the tangled moor, Each threading alone the track that leads To his own cabin door. END OF CANTO SECOND. CANTO THIRD. I.