Читать книгу Hope Leslie - Catharine Maria Sedgwick - Страница 3

Here stood the Indian chieftain, rejoicing in his glory!

How deep the shade of sadness that rests upon his story.

For the white man came with power – like brethren they met.

But the Indian fires went out, and the Indian sun has set!

And the chieftain has departed – gone is his hunting ground,

And the twanging of his bowstring is a forgotten sound.

Where dwelleth yesterday? and where is Echo’s cell?

Where has the rainbow vanished? – there does the Indian dwell.