XVIII.
"Brother, attend! I gave the infant food;
My lodge was open and my fire was warm;
He gathered strength, and felt a richer blood
Renew the vigor of his wasted arm;
He grew—waxed strong—the trees began to bud;
He asked for lands a little town to form;
I gave him lands, and taught him how to plant,
To fish and hunt,—for he was ignorant.
XIX.
"Brother, attend! Still did Awanux grow;
Still did he ask for land;—I gave him more—
And more—and more, till now his hatchet's blow
Is at Namasket heard, with crash and roar
Of falling oaks, and, like the whit'ning snow,
His growing numbers spread my borders o'er;
Scarce do they leave a scant and narrow place
Where we may spread the blanket of our race."
XX.
Here paused the chief, as if to ask reply;
Of thankless guests he spoke, and seemed to say
That the white strangers grasped too eagerly,
Nor heeded aught their benefactor's sway.
Ne'er to the Indian did our Sire deny
His share of Heaven's free gifts; and, to allay
The ominous mistrust, he answered mild
The dusky king of Pokanoket's wild:
XXI.
"Brother, I know that all these lands are thine,
These rolling rivers, and these waving trees,—
From the Great Spirit came the gift divine;
And who would trespass upon boons like these?
