The Poetry and History of Wyoming: Containing Campbell's Gertrude, and the History of Wyoming, from Its Discovery to the Beginning of the Present Century

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J. Munsell, 1864 - Wyoming Valley (Pa.) - 406 pages
 

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Page 367 - Insuperable height of loftiest shade, Cedar, and pine, and fir, and branching palm, A sylvan scene; and as the ranks ascend Shade above shade, a woody theatre Of stateliest view.
Page 381 - But do not harbor a thought that mine is the joy of fear. Logan never felt fear. He will not turn on his heel to save his life.
Page 382 - Logan, not even sparing my women and children. There runs not a drop of my blood in the veins of any living creature. This called on me for revenge. I have sought it: I have killed many: I have fully...
Page 89 - But how came you to take upon you to sell land at all? We conquered you, we made women of you; you know you are women, and can no more sell land than women.
Page 49 - Forbid not thee to weep : — Nor will the Christian host, Nor will thy father's spirit grieve, To see thee, on the battle's eve, Lamenting, take a mournful leave Of her who loved thee most: She was the rainbow to thy sight; Thy sun — thy heaven— of lost delight! " To-morrow let us do or die ! But when the bolt of death is hurl'd, Ah ! whither then with thee to fly, Shall Outalissi roam the world?
Page 8 - The orison repeated in his arms, For God to bless her sire and all mankind; The book, the bosom on his knee reclined, Or how sweet fairy-lore he heard her con, (The playmate ere the teacher of her mind): All uncompanion'd else her heart had gone Till now, in Gertrude's eyes, their ninth blue summer shone.
Page 13 - As monumental bronze unchanged his look: A soul that pity touch'd, but never shook : Train'd, from his tree-rock'd cradle to his bier, The fierce extremes of good and ill to brook Impassive — fearing but the shame of fear— A stoic of the woods — a man without a tear.
Page 49 - And by my side, in battle true, A thousand warriors drew the shaft ? Ah ! there in desolation cold, The desert serpent dwells alone, Where grass o'ergrows each mouldering bone, And stones themselves to ruin grown, Like me, are death-like old. Then seek we not their camp, — for there The silence dwells of my despair ! xxxix.
Page 90 - Reasons we charge you to remove instantly; we don't give you the Liberty to think about it. You are Women. Take the Advice of a wise Man, and remove immediately.
Page 44 - The pause to bid each much-loved scene adieu ! Beneath the very shadow of the fort, Where friendly swords were drawn, and banners flew, Ah ! who could deem that foot of Indian crew Was near...

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