LIII.
As here he ceased, in all the agony
Of mental pain he paced the cottage floor;
Absorbed in his own woes scarce did he see
The Elder pass, and leave his humble door;
His toils, cares, hopes, all lost; and poverty
Sudden, gaunt, naked, spread its glooms once more.
A clashing sound first broke this mental strife;
'Twas Waban, edging sharp his scalping knife.
LIV.
And such an ireful look, (his eyes so bright,
So played his muscles and so gnashed his teeth)—
Red warrior ne'er did show, save when in fight
His weapon makes the hostile heart a sheath,
And forces out the soul. He looked a sprite
Kindling a hell within!—Recoiling 'neath
The horrid feelings that the image woke,
Our Founder shrank, and thus the form bespoke:
LV.
"What fiend, O Waban! thus inflames thy breast?'
The spell of frenzy at the accents broke;
The red man paused, his hand the bosom pressed,
His eyes still flashing fire, and thus he spoke:
"My chief was angry with his pale-faced guest,
And at my sachem's ire my own awoke;
I can pursue,—for viewless pinions lift
My nimble feet to speed thy vengeance swift."
LVI.
A freezing horror crept through every vein,
As Williams heard the son of Nature speak;
And humbled stood he, for that ire profane
Was but his own that did new semblance take
