And voice came forth, "O Father, bless thy child!" As from the rock the bright wave leaps to day, The mighty instinct forced its living way: No need of further words;--all clear--all told; A father's arms the happy child enfold: Nature alone was audible!--and air Stirr'd with the gush of tears, and gasps of murmur'd prayer! Motionless stands the Indian; on his breast, As one the death-shaft pierces, droops his crest; His hands are clasp'd--one moment the sharp thrill Shakes his strong limbs;--then all once more is still; And form and aspect the firm calmness take Which clothes his kindred savage at the stake. So--as she turn'd her looks--the woe behind That quiet mask, the girl's quick heart divined,-- "Father!" she cried--"Not all, not all on me Lavish thy blessings!--Him, who saved me, see! Him who from want--from famine--from a doom, Frowning with terrors darker than the tomb, Preserved thy child!" Before the Indian's feet } She fell, and murmur'd--"Bliss is incomplete } Unless thy heart can share--thy lips can greet!" } Again the firm frame quiver'd;--roused again, The bruised eagle struggled from the chain; Till words found way, and with the effort grew Man's crowning strength--Man's evil to subdue. "Foeman--'tis past!--lo, in the strife between Thy world and mine, the eternal victory seen! Thou, with light arts, my realm hast overthrown, And, see, revenge but threats to bless thine own! My home is desolate--my hearth a grave-- The Heaven one hour that seem'd like justice gave, The arm is raised, the sacrifice prepared-- The altar kindles, and the victim's--spared! Free as before to smite and to destroy, Thou com'st to slaughter to depart in joy! "From the wayside yon drooping flower I bore; Warm'd at my heart--its root grew to the core, Dear as its kindred bloom seen through the bar By some long-thrall'd, and loneliest prisoner-- Now comes the garden's Lord, transplants the flower, And spoils the dungeon to enrich the bower? "So be it, law--and the world's rights are thine Lost the stern comfort, Nature's law and mine! She calls thee 'Father,' and the long deferr'd, Long-look'd for vengeance, withers at the word! Take back thy child! Earth's gods to thee belong! } To me the iron of the sense of wrong } Heaven makes the heart which Earth oppresses--strong!" } "Not so,--not so we part! O _husband_!" cried The Girl's full soul--"Divorce not thus thy bride! Yes, Father, yes!--in woe thy Lucy won This generous heart; shall joy not leave us one?"