LEFROY. But yesterday I climbed to Heaven upon the
shining stairs
Of love and hope, and here am quite cast down.
My little flower amidst a weedy world,
Where art thou now? In deepest forest shade?
Or onward, where the sumach stands arrayed
In Autumn splendour, its alluring form
Fruited, yet odious with the hidden worm?
Or, farther, by some still sequestered lake,
Loon-haunted, where the sinewy panthers slake
Their noon-day thirst, and never voice is heard
Joyous of singing waters, breeze or bird,
Save their wild waitings.--(_A halloo without_)
'Tis Tecumseh calls! Oh Iena! If dead, where'er thou
art--
Thy saddest grave will be this ruined heart!
[_Exit_.]

END OF THIRD ACT.




ACT IV.


_Enter_ CHORUS.

War is declared, unnatural and wild,
By Revolution's calculating sons!