From the red chieftain's home. Rest thee awhile Beneath my sycamore, and we will speak
My heart is sleepless, and the dark night swiftI must begone.
Herr.-[solemnly.] No, warrior, thou must stay!
The Mighty One hath given me power to search Thy soul with piercing words—and thou must stay, And hear me, and give answer! If thy heart Be grown thus restless, is it not because Within its dark folds thou hast mantled up Some burning thought of ill?-
Eno.-[with sudden impetuosity.] How should I rest? Last night the spirit of my brother came, An angry shadow in the moonlight streak,
And said, "Avènge me !"--In the clouds this morn I saw the frowning color of his blood--
And that, too, had a voice.-I lay at noon, Alone beside the sounding waterfall,
And through its thunder-music spake a tone— A low tone piercing all the roll of waves— And said, "Avenge me!"-Therefore have I raised The tomahawk, and strung the bow again,
That I may send the shadow from my couch, And take the strange sound from the cataract, And sleep once more.
A better path, my son,
Unto the still and dewy land of sleep,
My hand in peace can guide thee—e'en the way Thy dying brother trod.-Say, didst thou love That lost one well?
Knowest thou not we grew up Even as twin roses amidst the wilderness ? Unto the chase we journeyed in one path; We stemmed the lake in one canoe we lay
Upon my burning lips, my brother's hand Was still beneath my head; my brother's robe Covered my bosom from the chill night air. Our lives were girdled by one belt of love, Until he turned him from his fathers' gods, And then my soul fell from him-then the grass Grew in the way between our parted homes, And wheresoe'er I wandered, then it seemed That all the woods were silent.-I went forth- I journeyed, with my lonely heart, afar,
And so returned-and where was he?-the earth Owned him nō mōre.
But thou thyself, since then Hast turned thee from the idols of thy tribe, And, like thy brother, bowed the suppliant knee To the one God.
Yes, I have learned to pray
With my white father's words, yet all the more My heart that shut against my brother's love, Hath been within me as an arrowy fire,
Burning my sleep away.-In the night hush, 'Midst the strange whispers and dim shadowy things Of the great forests, I have called aloud, "Brother! forgive, forgive!"—He answered not- His deep voice, rising from the land of souls, Cries but "Avenge me!"—and I go forth now To slay his murderer, that when next his eyes Gleam on me mournfully from that pale shore, may look up, and meet their glance, and say, I have avenged thee!"
Should be the root of this dread bitterness, Till Heaven through all the fevered being pours Transmuting balsam!-Stay, Enonio, stay! Thy brother calls thee not!—The spirit world Where the departed go, sends back to earth
No visitants for evil.-Tis the might
Of the strong passion, the remorseful grief
At work in thine own breast, which lends the voice Unto the forest and the cataract,-
The angry color, to the clouds of morn,— The shadow, to the moonlight.-Stay, my son, Thy brother is at peace. Beside his couch, When of the murderer's poisoned shaft he died, I knelt and prayed; he named his Savior's name, Meekly, beseechingly; he spoke of thee
In pity and in love.
Eno.-[hurriedly.]
My arrow should avenge him?
Herr. His last words were all forgiveness.
Who pierced him with the shaft of treachery,
Walk fearless forth in joy?
Thy brother's friend?-Oh! trust me, not in joy He walks the frowning forest. Did keen love, Too late repentant of its heart estranged, Wake in thy haunted bosom, with its train Of sounds and shadows-and shall he escape? Enonio, dream it not!-Our God, the All Just, Unto Himself reserves this royalty- The secret chastening of the guilty heart, The fiery touch, the scourge that purifies, Leave it with Him!-Yet make it not thy hope-- For that strong heart of thine-Oh! listen yet- Must, in its depths, o'ercome the very wish For death or torture to the guilty one,
Of change, for man too mighty. Herr.
Of that which hath been, and again must be, If thou wouldst join thy brother, in the life
Of the bright country, where, I well believe, His soul rejoices.---He had known such change. He died in peace. He, whom his tribe once named "THE AVENGING EAGLE," took to his meek heart, In its last pangs, the spirit of those words
Which, from the Savior's cross, went up to heaven— "Forgive them, for they know not what they do, Father, forgive!"-And o'er the eternal bounds Of that celestial kingdom, undefiled, Where evil may not enter, he, I deem,
Hath to his Master passed.-He waits thee there For love, we trust, springs Heavenward from the grave, Immortal in its holiness.-He calls
His brother to the land of golden light
And ever-living fountains.-Couldst thou hear His voice o'er those bright waters, it would say, "My brother! Oh! be pure, be merciful! That we may meet again."
Unto my tribe, and unavenged?
To Him return, from whom thine erring steps Have wandered far and long! Return, my son, To thy Redeemer! Died He not in love- The sinless, the Divine; the Son of God- Breathing forgiveness 'midst all his agonies, And we, dare we be rúthless? By His aid Shait thou be guided to thy brother's place 'Midst the pure spirits. Oh! retrace thy way Back to the Savior! He rejects no heart E'en with the dark stains on it, if true tears
Be o'er them showered.-Aye, weep thou, Indian Chief! For by the kindling moonlight, I behold
Thy proud lips' working-weep, relieve thy soul!
Tears will not shame thy manhood, in the hour
Eno.-[Giving up his weapons to Herrmann.] Father, take
Keep the sharp arrows till the hunters call Forth to the chase once more.-And let me dwell A little while, my father, by thy side,
That I may hear the blessed words again- Like water brooks amidst the summer hills- From thy true lips flow forth; for in my heart The music and the memory of their sound
Too long have died away.
Friend, rescued one!-Yes, thou shalt be my guest, And we will pray beneath my sycamore Together, morn and eve; and I will spread Thy couch beside my fire, and sleep at last,- After the visiting of holy thoughts,- With dewy wing shall sink upon thine eyes! Enter my home, and welcome, welcome back To peace, to God, thou lost and found again!
They go into the cabin together.—HERRMANN, lingering for a moment on the threshhold, looks up to the starry skies.]
Father! that from amidst yon glorious worlds Now look'st on us, Thy children! make this hour Blessed for ever! May it see the birth
Of Thine own image in the unfathomed deep Of an immortal soul,-a thing to name
With reverential thought, a solemn world! To Thee more precious than those thousand stars Burning on high in Thy majestic Heaven!
1. FORGIVE and forget! why the world would be lonely,The garden, a wilderness left to deform,
If the flowers but remembered the chilling blast only, And the fields gave no verdure for fear of the storm.
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