“When thus Cawtantowit had finished all, No more did he on eagle’s pinions roam, There did he limits to his works install, And centre there his everlasting home; There did he cast the eagle and recall His pristine shape, and manit-man become; There still he dwells, the all-pervading soul Of men and manittoos--yea, of creation’s whole. XXVI. “All that is good does from Cawtantowit flow; All that is evil Chepian doth supply; Praying for good we to Cawtantowit bow, And shunning evil we to Chepian cry; To other manittoos we offerings owe, Dwell they in mountain, flood, or lofty sky; And oft they aid us when we hunting go, Or in fierce battle rush upon the foe. XXVII. “And manittoos, that never death shall fear, Do likewise in this mortal form abide; What else, my brother, is there beating here? What heaves this breast--what rolls its crimson tide? Whilst, like Cawtantowit, doth the soul appear To live through all and over all preside; And when her mortal mansion here decays, She to Sowaniu’s blessed island strays, XXVIII. “There aye to joy; if, whilst she dwelt with men, She wisely counseled and did bravely fight, Or watchful caught the beavers in the glen, Or nimbly followed far the moose’s flight; But if a sluggard and a coward, then To rove all wretched in the glooms of night, Misled by Chepian, a poor wandering ghost,-- In swamps and fens and bogs and brambles lost. XXIX. “And now, my brother, rightly worship we, When to Cawtantowit we make our prayer? Or when for help to Chepian we flee, And pray that us from every harm he spare? For every harm is all his own, we see, And good Cawtantowit has ne’er a share-- Then why should not I Chepian sue to be Much sparing of his harm to mine and me?” XXX. Williams made answer, “When red warriors brave The fight’s dark tempest and for glory die, Does Waban tremble whilst the battles rave, And at the hurtling arrows wink his eye? Or, basely cowering, does he mercy crave Of the red hatchet o’er him lifted high? Who prays to Chepian is a cringing slave, And, dying, fills at last a coward’s grave.” XXXI. Strongly these words to Waban’s pride appealed; Yet back upon him did the memory rush Of by-gone ages, and of many a field Where fought his fathers, who with victory flush, Not to Cawtantowit, but to Chepian kneeled, And thanked his aid.--They cowards! and the blush, That in their worship fear should seem revealed, Was scantly by his tawny hue concealed. XXXII.