Slowly his war-club sinks to earth, And slowly from his eye Recedes the fierce, vindictive fire, That burn’d before so high. His nerves relax--he looks around Upon his warrior men-- Perchance their unsubdued revenge His soul might fire again-- But no; the soft contagion spreads, And all have felt its power, And hearts are touch’d and passions hush’d, For mercy ruled the hour. XVIII. The monarch gently raised his child, And brush’d her tears away; And call’d Pamunky to his side, And bade without delay To free the captive from his bonds, And show him honors due, And lead him to the festive hall Their banquet to renew. XIX. The day is past, and past the night, And now again the morning light, With golden pinions all unfurl’d, Comes forth to wake a sleeping world; And brave Sir John, with footsteps free, And a trusty guard of warriors three, Through the deep woods is on his way To greet his friends at Paspahey. END OF CANTO FOURTH. CANTO FIFTH. I. December’s sun is pale and low, Chilly and raw the north winds blow, Dark threatening clouds are floating by, And Jamestown’s sons with sadden’d eye Look out upon the dreary wild Of woods and waters, where exiled, And distant far from friends and home, They see the storms of winter come. One half their number they had lost, Since on this wild and desert coast They first set foot; and ere the spring Fresh fruits and flowers again would bring, They felt that others too must fall: For though their number was but small, Their store of food was smaller still; And oft this thought a deadly chill Sent to each heart: they saw the hour Was coming soon, when famine’s power Must sweep them off, as leaves are cast On the cold earth by autumn’s blast. But mid this gloom and prospect dread, That o’er all hearts a sadness shed, No matter by what foe assail’d, Sir John’s brave spirit never quail’d. Early and late he knew no rest; He nursed the sick, sooth’d the distress’d, Cheer’d the despairing, and anon, With gun in hand, away has gone To seek the wild duck on the wave, Or game within the darksome wood, The famish’d colonists to save, And spread their common board with food. II.