From Indian blood you deem him sprung:
Ah no! he spake the English tongue
And bare a Soldier's name;
And when America was free
From battle and from jeopardy
He cross the ocean came.

With hues of genius on his cheek
In finest tones the Youth could speak.
--While he was yet a Boy
The moon, the glory of the sun,
And streams that murmur as they run
Had been his dearest joy.

He was a lovely Youth! I guess
The panther in the wilderness
Was not so fair as he;
And when he chose to sport and play,
No dolphin ever was so gay
Upon the tropic sea.

Among the Indians he had fought,
And with him many tales he brought
Of pleasure and of fear,
Such tales as told to any Maid
By such a Youth in the green shade
Were perilous to hear.

He told of Girls, a happy rout,