Prophet! the spirits of your kindred dead
Already o'er their children's ashes weep;—
Arise! go forth, and by thy serpent quell
The daring stranger, and his gods expel!
XXXII.
"'Hast thou forgot, when, by Cohannet's stream,
To curse the strangers every charm was tried?
How, at your mutterings, the moon's pale beam
Retired from Heaven, and backward rushed the tide?
How I appeared, and, by the embers' gleam,
To the hard rock my lance's point applied,
And scored my mandate—saying to the foe,
Thus far thy gods may come—no further go?[1]
XXXIII.
"'Rouse, Prophet, rouse! A stranger now doth dare
Pass the charmed limits, and our peace invade!'
He said, and, resting on the casket there,
Melted from sight into the sombre shade:
He chose my serpent for his earthly lair;
Swelled his huge volumes, and inspired his head,
And taught his tongue to speak the future well,
And charms most wise that can the bravest quell.
XXXIV.
"And dar'st thou, stranger, brave his glance of fire?
Dar'st thou confront the terror of his charms?
Confront grim Chepian in the dread attire
Of the great Sesek, whose unearthly arms
Wake fear in Sachems? O, thou fool! retire—
Bear off thy gods; for robed in all their harms
Thou art unsafe.—No power we yield to thee,
Or to thy gods; for Chepian rules by me."
- ↑ See note.
