OUR ABORIGINES. 125
And old Ontario's billowy lake
Prolong'd the thunder tone, " The chieftains at our side who stood
Upon our christening day, Who gave the glorious names we bear,
Our sponsors, where are they ? "
And then the fair Ohio charg'd
Her many sisters dear, " Show me once more, those stately forms
Within my mirror clear ; " But they replied, " Tall barks of pride
Do cleave our waters blue, And strong keels ride our farthest tide,
But where 's their light canoe ? "
The farmer drove his plough-share deep
" Whose bones are these ? " said he, " I find them where my browsing sheep
Roam o'er the upland lea." But starting sudden to his path
A phantom seem'd to glide, A plume of feathers on his head,
A quiver at his side.
He pointed to the rifled grave, Then rais'd his hand on high,
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