IV.
And, as she viewed the illimitable shade,
The haunt of savage men and beasts of prey,
She thought of all the dreadful ills arrayed
Against her children on their dangerous way;
"Ye houseless babes!" in her wild grief she said,
"What crimes were yours, what dire offences, say,
That even ye should share this cruel doom,
Beg of barbarians bread, and savage deserts roam?"
V.
But Father Williams, to his lot resigned,
Now rose to feelings of a loftier tone;
For Heaven to vigor had restored his mind,
And firmly braced it for the task unknown;
He scarcely glanced upon the toils behind;
His soul inspired did bolder visions own,
That from his breast dispelled each dismal gloom,
And cheered him onward to his destined home.
VI.
As the bold bird that builds her mansion high
On beetling crag or helmlock's lofty bough,
Deep in the desert, far from human eye,
And deems herself secure from every foe,—
Aloft in overshadowing branches nigh,
Perceives the wild-cat's threatening eye-balls glow,
And spurns her eyry, with ascending flight
To some tall ash that crests the mountain's height;
VII.
So his vain toils he coldly now surveyed;
He had but sunk a bolder wing to try;
He snatched the weepers from the hated glade,
And bore them lightly to the shallop nigh;
