Classic Poem

Between the gulfs, where Laurence drains the world
And where Floridia's furthest floods are curl'd,
Where midlands broad their swelling mountains heave
And slope their champaigns to the Atlantic wave,
The sandy streambank and the woodgreen plain
Raise into sight the new made seats of man.
The placid ports that break the seaborn gales.
Rear their tall masts and stretch aloft their sails;
Full harvests wave, the groves with fruitage bend,
Gay villas smile, defensive towers ascend;
All the rich works of art their charms display
To court the planter and his cares repay:
Till war invades; when soon the dales disclose
Their meadows path'd with files of savage foes;
High tufted quills their painted foreheads press,
Dark spoils of beasts their shaggy shoulders dress,
The bow bent forward for the combat strung,
The ax, the quiver on the girdle hung;
The deep discordant yells convulse the air,
And earth resounds the war whoop's hideous blare.
The patriarch lookt; and every darken'd height
Pours down the swarthy nations to the fight.
Where Kennebec's high source forsakes the sky,
Where long Champlain's yet unkeel'd waters lie,
Where Hudson crowds his hill-dissundering tide,
Where Kaatskill heights the starry vault divide,
Where the dim Alleganies range sublime
And give their streams to every neighboring clime,
The swarms descended like an evening shade,
And wolves and vultures follow'd where they spread.
Thus when a storm on eastern pinions driven
Meets the firm Andes in the midst of heaven,
The clouds convulse, the torrents pour amain
And the black waters sweep the subject plain.
Thro harvest fields the bloody myriads tread,
Sack the lone village, strow the streets with dead;
The flames in spiry volumes round them rise,
And shrieks and shouts redoubling rend the skies.
Fair babes and matrons in their domes expire
Or bursting frantic thro the folding fire
They scream, fly, fall; promiscuous rave along
The yelling victors and the driven throng;
The streams run purple; all the peopled shore
Is wrapt in flames and trod with steps of gore.
Till colons, gathering from the shorelands far,
Stretch their new standards and oppose the war,
With muskets match the many-shafted bow,
With loud artillery stun the astonisht foe.
When like a broken wave the barbarous train
Lead back the flight and scatter from the plain,
Slay their weak captives, drop their shafts in haste,
Forget their spoils and scour the trackless waste;
From wood to wood in wild confusion hurl'd
They hurry o'er the hills far thro the savage world.
Now move secure the cheerful works of peace,
New temples rise and fruitful fields increase.