V.

    "The words I speak are no complaint And if I breathe out my despair, It is not that my heart grows faint, Or shrinks from what 'tis doomed¹ to bear. Though every sorrow which may shake Or rend² man's heart, should pierce my own, Their strength united, should not make My lip breathe one complaining tone.

    If I must suffer, it shall be With a firm heart, a soul elate, A wordless scorn, which silently Shall mock the stern decrees of fate.

    The weak might bend, the timid shrink, Until misfortune's storm blew by, But I, a chieftain's son, should drink Its proffered³ cup without a sigh.

    And it will scarcely, to my lip, Seem harsher than yon fountain's flow, For I have held companionship With Misery⁴, from my youth till now—— Have felt, by turns, each pang⁵, each care, Her hapless sons are doomed, to bear；—— I caught my mother's parting breath, When passed she to the spirit land； And from the fatal field of death, Where, leading on his fearless band, With fiery⁶ and resistless might, He fell, though victor in the fight, Pierced by the arrow of some foe⁷, I saw my father's spirit go.

    And I have seen his warrior⁸ men, From mountain, valley, hill, and glen, Departing one by one, since then, As from the dry and withered⁹ spray, The wilted¹⁰ leaves are blown away, Upon some windy autumn day： I, only I, am left to be The last leaf of the blighted¹¹ tree, Which the first wind that through the sky Goes carelessly careering by, Will, in its wild, unheeded mirth, Rend from its hold, and dash to earth：

    Thus, here alone have I remained, An outcast, where I should have reigned¹².