Page:Pocahontas, and Other Poems.djvu/67

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51
And be the purpose of thy soul,  Thy sun-bright course, the same."
And, as she drew them to her arms,  Down her fair cheek would glide A gushing tear like diamond spark,  A tear of love and pride.
She took her baby from its rest,  And laid it on her knee ; "Thou ne'er hast seen thy sire," she said,  "But hell be proud of thee :
"Yes, he'll be proud of thee, my dove,  The lily of our line, I know what eye of blue he loves,  And such an eye is thine."
"Where is my father gone, Mamma?  Why does he stay so long?" "He's far away in Congress-hall,  Amid the noble throng:
"He's in the lofty Congress-hall,  To swell the high debate; And help to frame those equal laws  That make our land so great.
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