The league of the Iroquois and other legends : from the Indian muse

THE COUNCIL. 139
In fitting words, nor overbold,
To him they spake ;
The Council still delayed ;
how, burning dim,
they told
What mighty chieftains waited him ;
What braves the fiercer foe had slain ;
How women wept and children mourned ;
Till pitying so his People's pain,
Or he his lighter sorrow scorned,
Or bowing to the will of Fate,
Uprose ;
and not as one bereft,
But with a firmer step elate ;
And on that manly
face was left
Of anguished thought, nor trace nor stain ;
But with the olden fire imbued
The scorn of fear, the scorn of pain
Of ONGUE HONWE'S lofty mood.
Bright in the morning's dawning light
Shone Hayo-went-ha's Prophet-face,
As it some passion's stormy might
Had lit and left a fiery trace ;
His brow of mighty purpose showed,
His eye of valor's kindling ken ;
His very step, as forth he strode,
Was haughty, as of kingly men.
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