XI.
Then Williams: "Sachem, in the cause of Him,
The great Good Spirit whom we all adore—
Who smiles not on the contests fierce and grim
Of his red children in the field of gore—
I have come hither, in unwarlike trim,
To crave thy friendship, and of thee implore
That these black clouds portending bloody rain
May go, and let the sky shine out again."
XII.
So answering, the calumet of peace
He tendered to that warlike Sagamore,
Who clenched his hands, and backward stept a pace,
"Nay! Nay, Awanux! Wampanoag gore
Will M'antonomi's feet in battle trace
Ere dies another moon. He hears no more;
'Tis not for him, amid these Keenomps bold,
To talk of peace—that suits his uncle old."
XIII.
Williams to this: "Then the gray chief is wise;
His glance is forward, and around him turns;
But o'er the young chief clouds of anger rise,
He sees but backward, and his vengeance burns;
Show me to him who looks with wisdom's eyes
Upon the nations, and most truly learns,
From by-gone toils and dangers of his life,
To prize the pipe above the scalping-knife."
XIV.
At this his bosom the young Sachem struck,
And braced his frame, and flashed his kindling eye—
"This breast is generous," he proudly spoke,
"Of like for like abundant its supply;
