Page:Poems Davidson.djvu/81

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CHICOMICO.
33
THE FAREWELL.

Adieu, Chicomico, adieu;
Soft may'st thou sleep amid the wave,
And 'neath thy canopy of blue
May sea-maids deck thy coral grave.

'Twas but a feeble voice which sung
Thy hapless tale of youthful woe;
But ah! that weak, that infant tongue
Will ne'er another story know.

And though the rough and foaming surge,
And the wild whirlwind whistling o'er,
Should rudely chant thy funeral dirge,
And send the notes from shore to shore;

Still shall one voice be heard, above
The dreadful "music of the spheres!"
The voice of one whose song is love,
Embalmed by sorrow's saddest tears.

PART V.

The fourth day found the dark tribe brooding o'er
Their chieftain's body, chieftain now no more!
As fire half-quenched, some faint spark lives,
Glimmers, half dies, and then revives,