Page:History of Oregon Literature.djvu/387

 Of spoil thus gathered from abroad
Where lordly pine and hemlock grew
 They brought as offering to their god.
 The groves God's temples were of old,
 And 'neath some broadly spreading tree
They knelt upon the grass-grown mold
 And offering made to deity.

And still they show a temple there,
 Of towering hemlock, spruce and pine,
As if by Titans planted, where
 Through thickest boughs no sunbeams shine
They walk there with an awful tread;
 They think the grove is holy ground,
And there the ever silent dead
 Are sepultered without a sound.

And since the white man lays his hand
 Alike on sounding shore and sea,
And plows the wave and plows the land,
 And treats the red man slightingly,
They dream by night and pray by day,
 That, as by ancient seers foretold,
The time may come when on that bay
 Shall dash that war fleet, as of old,
To bring again to Tillamook
 The power and glory that of yore
Ruled all from Coos to far Chinook,
 To rule it thus forever more.