The weekly Union times. [volume] (Union C.H., South Carolina) 1871-1894, 1890-05-09
ososoLA's LAST DasAx


eet to windows open end cool my veins,
For the foyer Of death 10 now begun,
tnq bot on my hands and feet are nay chains,
nnatAa q, III e. ocean pants IN tho low, red sun.
And Ihe Cherokee roses with hearts Of white
Lilo thick as the stare in the seas of dow.
oyp,sss Uof Of somss sss sns sn graves
"a AJAX sh,S but M q Sre athGwhst is left to me
. Listen to Osceolas - -..
Only the rain GRO ~ that cries in the fen, g.
only tho bosos where the hawk has been,
But pity not Osceola. -
o Floridns far, so near you seem
breathe the breath Of your orange groves,
Tho lives Of the warriors form my dreams,
The fans Of the palms as in years Of old,
wave coonng mo now in these splendors Of
An A9a ks a9RsS ssy1s X the q ss g. gold
And tho trsde.wnds blow my glupes OF white.
And the sboros are filed with the moonrise
Il is ali a dream what is left to me
OF ths pelm.crowhed land and tho nisht-cooled
What is left to osoeoia2
Only the rain crow that calls in the fen.
Only tho fur in the werewohs den,
Only the bones where the hawk has been,'
But pity not Osoeola.
Ay, pity mo not-these hapds are red,
Ard tho mercifuf Fever waves over my head
The i torch ef the Tempest, and throb my veins.
IOuI Wle ID GEAR TO your DO6Om-welI,
My forost bride was as dcar to me,
MY heart, too, was Humankind what befol7
Ask heelnve pens, iei in the Manatee.
6toien and sold for q slave And whose hand
Was lifted for her in oil your land2
Tn There barred my breast Of my heart Dereft
To tho winged ritie- and what ts left?
What is left to Osoeolap
Only the rain crow that calls in the fon,
omiy the fur IN the werewons den,
Only the bones whore the hawk has bean,
But pity not Osceoln.
When war swiid spirit broke in mo
cursed the land aud 1t sunk from sight.
l called the red plumes from the Manatee.
sailed s gounS Psafs the 81
And tho ooay swanps OF tho dark Wahoo,
From the fcathrred trails in the red woods
And wo fought for our own al shs KSroes do,
So sapscp
And ye bound mo twice. and what remains
What ia LETT to 'Osceola2
Only the rain crow that cali in the fen.
htnly the bones whoro the hawk hos been,
= But pity not Osceola
Chains2 What are they now2 On plumes
Ny free soul scars DER the crimson SEQ.
Ye doves Zenaida ye ibises white,
Isweep tho clouds like your pinions free.
Like the fallen cups Of the gods, lie sweet.
As in the bliss OF those stariit hours
When my bride lay down at my weary feet.
The sunset fades In my prison bars
When Justice you face with your soul laid bare,
Tell me, what shall await you there?
Listen to Osceola-
Only the rain crown that calls in the fen,
Only the fur in the werewolfs don,
Only the bones where the hawk has been,
Pity not Usceola.
70 shall lay my bones where the reedy winds
In the cool snvaDnahs for me shall sigh;
Where the wandering heron the sea-conch finds,
And tho tears OF the Gulf clouds fill the uky.
Ye shall not bring me your pity there,
GOundinQ
Nor mo,k the heavens with psalm or prayer
LOT Aerseh alone let !niostIce weep .
QA&G3 iUtniJ 1ki1>d foTps IN - ed
But beyond yobr reach hang the scalca Of GOD,
And in the boiGhts OF tho judgment air :"
Ye may hnd a sentence moro hard to bear !
Than the doom of Osceolar- t.t.,
Only the rGin crow that calls In the fen,
Only the fur in tho werewolf,s don,
Only the bones where the hawk has been
May tho God Of the withered leaves pity you
then
Pity not Osceola