He beheld Him in the star that sunk in beauty behind his lonely
dwelling; in the flower that swayed in the morning breeze; in the lofty
trees as well as in the worm that crawled at his feet.

All this has passed away. Four hundred years have changed the face of
this great continent, and this peculiar race has been well-nigh blotted
out. Art has taken the place of simple nature, and civilization has
been too strong for the savage tribes of the red man.

Here and there a few Indians remain; but these are merely the degraded
offspring of this once noble race of men.



SELECTION XI

MY FATHERLAND

There is a land, of every land the pride,
Beloved by Heaven o'er all the world beside,
Where brighter suns dispense serener light,
And milder moons imparadise the night.
O land of beauty, virtue, valor, truth,
Time-tutored age, and love-exalted youth!
The wandering mariner, whose eye explores
The wealthiest isles, the most enchanting shores,
Views not a realm so bountiful and fair,
Nor breathes the spirit of a purer air.
In every clime, the magnet of his soul,
Touched by remembrance, trembles to that pole;