“For ‘these of Onas are the sons,’ Said they, ‘the upright peaceful men!’ Nor was harm done to those who held The faith of William Penn. “But I this while thought less of peace, Than of the camp and battle stir; For I had given my young heart’s love Unto a British officer. “Near us, within the forest-fort, He lay, the leader of a band Of fierce young spirits, sworn to sweep The Indian from the land-- “The native Indian from his woods-- I deem’d it cowardly and base; And, with a righteous zeal I pled For the free forest-race. “But he, to whom I pled, preferr’d Sweet pleading of another sort; And we met ever ’neath the wood Outside the forest-fort. “The Indian passed us in the wood, Or glared upon us from the brake; But he, disguised, with me was safe, For Father Onas’ sake. “At length the crisis of the war Approach’d, and he, my soul’s beloved, With his hot band, impatient grown, Yet further west removed. “There he was taken by the foe, Ambush’d like tigers ’mid the trees: You know what death severe and dread The Indian to his foe decrees “A death of torture and of fire-- Protracted death; I knew too well, Outraged and anger’d, as of late Had been the Indian spirit, fell Would be their vengeance, and, to him, Their hate implacable. “When first to me his fate was told, I stood amazed, confounded, dumb; Then wildly wept and wrung my hands, By anguish overcome. “‘Wait, wait!’ the peaceful people said; ‘Be still and wait, the Lord is good!’ But when they bade me trust and wait, I went forth in my anguish great, To hide me in the wood. “I had no fear; the Indian race To me were as my early kin: And then the thought came to my brain, To go forth, and from death and pain, My best beloved to win. “With me my fair, young sister went, Long journeying on through wood and swamp: Three long days’ travel, ere we came To the great Indian camp. “We saw the Indians as we went, Hid ’mong the grass with tiger ken; But we were safe, they would not harm The daughters of the peaceful men. “In thickets of the woods at length We came to a savannah green; And there, beneath the open day, The Indian camp was seen. “I turned me from that scene of war, And from the solemn council-talk, Where stood the warriors, stern, and cold, War-crested, and with bearing bold, Listening unto a sachem old, Who held aloft a tomahawk. “I knew they were athirst for blood; That they had pity none to spare;-- Besides, bound to a tree, I saw An English captive there.