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 Saviour'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,

66

My brother! oh! be pure, be merciful!

That we may meet again."

Enonio, (hesitating.)

Can I return

Unto my tribe, and unavenged?

Herrmann.

To Him,

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 agonies,
And we, dare we be ruthless?-By His aid
Shalt thou be guided to thy brother's place
Midst the pure spirits.-Oh! retrace the way
Back to thy Saviour! 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 lip's working-weep, relieve thy soul!

Tears will not shame thy manhood, in the hour
Of its great conflict.

Enonio, (giving up his weapons to Herrmann.)
Father, take the bow,

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—
heart

From thy true lips flow forth; for in my
The music and the memory of their sound

Too long have died away.

Herrmann.

O, welcome back,

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 lastAfter the visiting of holy thoughtsWith 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 threshold, 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!

PRAYER AT SEA AFTER VICTORY.

The land shall never rue,

So England to herself do prove but true.

SHAKSPEARE.

THROUGH evening's bright repose

A voice of prayer arose,

When the sea-fight was done:

The sons of England knelt,

With hearts that now could melt,

For on the wave her battle had been won.