Alhalla, or the Lord of Talladega: A Tale of the Creek War. Henry Rowe Schoolcraft

would most swiftly fly.

      MONGAZID.

      ’Tis well! Thy god will list to thee, And think’st thou mine shall turn from me? More may be vain: thee and thy crew Fair skies o’ershadow—friend, adieu!

      DE LA JOIE.

      Hunter, stay; I have a gift, Of such potence it shall lift From thy brain, and from thy mind, Every care of grosser kind, Every latent, earthly woe, Such as weary mortals know, And induce the lifted soul In one round of joy to roll. It shall banish selfish care, Change the fouler fate to fair, And inspire, with visions high, Thy sedate, prophetic eye.

      Take this little vase; the draught May be oft and freely quaffed, By those only who have felt Oft its sovereign power to melt, Raise and gladden; but with care Let thy lips the liquid share! When the sun, with splendor bright, Wakes the drowsy world with light, Come thou hither, straight, and tell If my gift be ill or well: If my words thou findest true— If such raptures may ensue— And, with new-found courage brave, Thou wilt tempt with me the wave.

      ETHWALD.

      [An attendant here introduces the pipe of peace.]

      Accept my pledge of purpose high, That calls me to your northern sky. Much have I heard, and longed to view These spreading coasts, and waters blue, These rosy skies, and beaming shores, Replete with all their sylvan stores. Nor less my interest in that race Who poise the dart, and lead the chase; And, with a pride of kin and sire, Still light up here their council fire. Tradition hath informed me well Of deeds in which ye yet excel: Your skill by water, rift and rock, The war-path and the battle’s shock; And all those arts, through which ye sing, “I am the wild-wood’s subtle king.” Take of my proffered pledge: we stand Thus heart in heart, as hand in hand.

      MONGAZID.

      So be it, sire: the heavens turn black On all who from this pledge draw back.