Perplexed with doubts, and tortured with despair, Why so dejected at this hopeless sleep? Nature at last these ruins may repair, When fate's long dream is o'er, and she forgets to weep Some real world once more may be assigned, Some new born mansion for the immortal mind! Farewell, sweet lake; farewell surrounding woods, To other groves, through midnight glooms, I stray, Beyond the mountains, and beyond the floods, Beyond the Huron bay! Prepare the hollow tomb, and place me low, My trusty bow and arrows by my side, The cheerful bottle and the venison store; For long the journey is that I must go, Without a partner, and without a guide." He spoke, and bid the attending mourners weep, Then closed his eyes, and sunk to endless sleep! [275] Text from the edition of 1809. First published in the _Freeman's Journal_, March 17, 1784. It was inserted without change into the edition of 1786, where it bore the title: "The Dying Indian, or Last Words of Shalum. _March, 1784._ Debemur morti nos, nostraque." The two later editions were unchanged save in title. LINES[276] Intended for Mr. Peale's Exhibition May 10, 1784 1 Toward the skies What columns rise In Roman style, profusely great! What lamps ascend, What arches bend, And swell with more than Roman state! 2 High o'er the central arch display'd Old Janus shuts his temple door, And shackles war in darkest shade; Saturnian times in view once more. 3 Pride of the human race, behold In Gallia's king the virtues glow, Whose conduct prov'd, whose goodness told, That kings can feel for human woe. Thrice happy France in Louis blest, Thy genius droops her head no more; In the calm virtues of the mind Equal to him no Titus shin'd-- No Trajan--whom mankind adore. 4 Another scene too soon displays! Griefs have their share, and claim their part, They monuments to ruin raise, And shed keen anguish o'er the heart: Those heroes that in battle fell Demand a sympathetic tear, Who fought, our tyrants to repell-- Memory preserves their laurels here. In vernal skies Thus tempests rise, And clouds obscure the brightest sun-- Few wreathes are gain'd With blood unstain'd, No honours without ruin won. 5 The arms of France three lillies mark-- In honour's dome with these enroll'd The plough, the sheaf, the gliding barque The riches of our State unfold. 6 Ally'd in Heaven, a sun and stars Friendship and peace with France declare-- The branch succeeds the spear of Mars, Commerce repairs the wastes of war: In ties of concord ancient foes engage Proving the day-spring of a brighter age. 7 These States defended by the brave, Their military trophies, see! The virtue that of old did save Shall still maintain them great and free: Arts shall pervade the western wild, And savage hearts become more mild. 8