Alexandria gazette. [volume] (Alexandria, D.C.) 1834-1974, 1834-02-04

Ali advertisements appear in both papers, anu
are inserted at the usual rates
THE DEATH OF THE SYCAMORE:
A Scene ofthe Ssrenteenh Century,
By Miss HANNAH F COULD.
The Servant of God is on his way
From Boston's beautiful shore;
His boat skins light DER the silvery bay,
While the sleeping waters awaken the play,
Attic touch of the playful oar.
The purpose that fills his soul is great
AS the soul of man can know;
Vast as eternity, strong as the gate
The spirtmustp pass, to changeiess state,
And enter to bliss or wo!
His boat is fast, and over the sod
ola neighboring wood he HES,
: Through moor and thicket his path IS trod
As he hastens to speak Of the living God
In the ear ola man who dies!
Where Rumney's forest ishigh and dark,
The Eagle lowers her wings,
s Der him, who once had made her his mark;
For the SYCAMORE, in his hut OF bark,
Is a perishing, poweriess hlng.
At the door of his wigwam hang the bow,
The antler, and beaver skin;
While he. who bore them, is faint and low,
Where death has given the fatal blow
And the Monarch expires within.
The eve that glanced, and the Eagle fled
Away, through her fields of air
The hand that drew, and the deer was DEAD,
The hunters foot, and the chieftain's head,
And the conqueror's arm are there.
But each its powerful work has done;
It's triumph at length is past;
The final conflict is now begun;
And, weeping, the mother hangs over her son,
While the Sycamore breathes his last.
The Queen of the Massachusetts grieves,
That thelife of her son must end!
And that is a noble breast, that heaves
With the mortal pang, on the bed OF leaves,
Ofthe white mans Indian triend
The stately form which is PROSTATE there,
On the feet that are cold as snow,
Has often Sped in the midnight air
A word to the Christians ear to bear,
Of the plot of his heather foe!
And of, when roaming the wild alone,
The generous heart would melt
AT the touch of ray oflght, that shone
From the white mans God, till, before his
throne, $50
Almost has the Indian knelt.
Yet the fatal fear, the fear ofman,
That bringeth TO man snare,
Has braced his knee, as it just began
To bend; and the dread of heather clan
Has stifled a Christian prayer.
But now. like flood TO his trembling heart
Has the fear of God rushed in;
And keener far when the icy dart
That rends the flesh and spirit apart
Isthe thought ofhis heather sin.
To the lonely spot where the Chief reclines
While the herald of love draws nigh,
The Indian shrihks, as he marks the signs
OF a soul at peace, and the light that shines
Alone from a Christians eye.
g Alasr, be cries, in the strange, deep tone
OF one in the grasp ofdeath,
No God have /! | have lost my own!
go to the presence ofthine alone,
To scorch in his fiery breath!
nThe Spirit, who makes the skies so bright
With the prints of his shining feet;
Who rolls the waters kindles the light,
Imprisons the winds, and gives them their
flight
Itremble his eye to meet
"When, oh! if openly had confessed,
Add followed and loved him here;
now might fly to his arms for rest
As the weary bird to her downy nest,
When the evening shades draw near.
6 But grant me the one great boon crave
In dread, and an awful hour!
When shall have sunk in my forest grave,
0, take my Boy to thy home, and save
That beautiful forest flower!
The God ofthy people, the Holy One
And the path that shall reach the skies
Say! say that to these thou wilt lead my son,
That he may not second the race I've run,
Nor die, as his father dies!,
/" As his father dies" with the breath that bore
That sorowful sound, has fed
The soul of king-for, the strife is DER
With spirit and flesh; and the Sycamore
Is numbered among the dead!
But has he not, by his high bequest
Like the penitent on the tree,
The Saviour of dying man confessed;
And found the promise to him addressed
"To-day thou shalt be with me?n
The difficulty remored General Jackson,
finding that no one of the party can unite the