Page:Selections from the American poets (IA selectamerpoet00bryarich).pdf/194

This page has been proofread, but needs to be validated.
LYDIA HUNTLEY SIGOURNEY.
190
Whene'er affliction o'er thee shedsIts influence malign,Then, suff'rer, be the Prophet's pray's,And prompt obedience, thine:'Tis but a Marah's fount, ordain'dThy faith in God to prove,And pray'r and resignation shallIts bitterness remove

INDIAN NAMES.

"How can the red men he forgotten, while so many of our states and territories, bays, lakes, and rivers, are indelibly stamped by names of their giving!"

Ye say they all have pass'd away,That noble race and brave,That their light canoes have vanish'dFrom off the crested wave.That, mid the forests where they roam'd,There rings no hunter's shout;But their name is on your waters,Ye may not wash it out.
'Tis where Ontario's billowLike ocean's surge is curl'd,Where strong Niagara's thunders wakeThe echo of the world,Where red Missouri bringethRich tribute from the west,And Rappahannock sweetly sleepsOn green Virginia's breast.
Ye say their conelike cabins,That cluster'd o'er the vale,Have disappear'd, as wither'd leavesBefore the autumn's gale;