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قراءة كتاب Traditions of the North American Indians, Vol. 3
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اللغة: English
Traditions of the North American Indians, Vol. 3
الصفحة رقم: 1
FRONTISPIECE. Vol. 3.
Designed & Etched by W. H. Brooks A. R. H. A.
In a moment multitudes of bright beings start up—"He is ours"!!! page 110.
London, Published by Colburn & Bentley—April 1830.
TRADITIONS
OF THE
NORTH AMERICAN INDIANS:
BEING
A SECOND AND REVISED EDITION
OF
"TALES OF AN INDIAN CAMP."
BY
JAMES ATHEARN JONES.
IN THREE VOLUMES.
VOL. III.
———
LONDON:
HENRY COLBURN AND RICHARD BENTLEY,
NEW BURLINGTON STREET.
1830
LONDON:
F. SHOBERL, JUN., LONG ACRE.
CONTENTS
OF
THE THIRD VOLUME.
TALES OF AN INDIAN CAMP.
THE LAKE OF THE WHITE CANOE.
Wo! Wo! Wo
Wo to the sons of the far-off land,
Weak in heart and pale in face,
Deer in battle, moose in a race,
Panthers wanting claw and tooth
Wo to the red man, strong of hand,
Steady of purpose, lithe of limb,
Calm in the toils of the foe,
Knowing nor tears nor ruth
Wo to them and him,
If, cast by hard fate at the midnight damp,
Or an hour of storm in the dismal swamp,
That skirts the Lake of the White Canoe!
Wo to the sons of the far-off land,
Weak in heart and pale in face,
Deer in battle, moose in a race,
Panthers wanting claw and tooth
Wo to the red man, strong of hand,
Steady of purpose, lithe of limb,
Calm in the toils of the foe,
Knowing nor tears nor ruth
Wo to them and him,
If, cast by hard fate at the midnight damp,
Or an hour of storm in the dismal swamp,
That skirts the Lake of the White Canoe!
Wo to him and them,
If, when the night's dim lamps are veil'd,
And the Hunter's Star is hid,
And the moon has shut her lid,
For their wearied limbs the only birth
Be the cold and frosty earth,
And their flesh be burnt by the gum exhal'd
From the cedar's poisonous stem,
And steep'd in the blistering dew
Of the barren vine in the birchen copse,
Where rear the pines their giant tops
Above the Lake of the White Canoe!
If, when the night's dim lamps are veil'd,
And the Hunter's Star is hid,
And the moon has shut her lid,
For their wearied limbs the only birth
Be the cold and frosty earth,
And their flesh be burnt by the gum exhal'd
From the cedar's poisonous stem,
And steep'd in the blistering dew
Of the barren vine in the birchen copse,
Where rear the pines their giant tops
Above the Lake of the White Canoe!
My brother hears—'t is well—
And let him shun the spot,
The damp and dismal brake,
That skirts the shallow lake,
The brown and stagnant pool[1],
The dark and miry fen,
And let him never at nightfall spread
His blanket among the isles that dot
The surface of that lake;
And let my brother tell
The men of his race that the wolf hath fed
Ere now on warriors brave and true,
In the fearful Lake of the White Canoe.
And let him shun the spot,
The damp and dismal brake,
That skirts the shallow lake,
The brown and stagnant pool[1],
The dark and miry fen,
And let him never at nightfall spread
His blanket among the isles that dot
The surface of that lake;
And let my brother tell
The men of his race that the wolf hath fed
Ere now on warriors brave and true,
In the fearful Lake of the White Canoe.
Wo! Wo! Wo!
To him that sleeps in those dark fens!
The she-wolf will stir the brake,
And the copper-snake breathe in his
To him that sleeps in those dark fens!
The she-wolf will stir the brake,
And the copper-snake breathe in his