When the palefaces came in their whitewing'd canoes, <br />Long ago, from the sun-rising sea <br />When they ask'd for a lodge, and we did not refuse <br />Happy then was the red man, and free. <br />He could then choose a spot for his wigwam to stand, <br />Where the forest was crowded with game; <br />For the blue-rolling lake and the ever smiling land <br />Were his own till the palefaces came <br />For the broad grassy plains and the forests deep and grand, <br />Were his own till the palefaces came. <br /> <br />They came! they came! like the fierce prairie flame, <br />Sweeping on to the sun-setting shore: <br />Gazing now on its waves, but a handful of braves, <br />We shall join in the the chase nevermore <br />Till we camp on the plains where the Great Spirit reigns, <br />We shall join in the chase nevermore. <br /> <br />We receiv'd them with gladness, as Sons of the Sky <br />We believ'd them of heavenly birth; <br />But alas! to our sorrow we found by and by, <br />That like us they were born of the earth. <br />By their false traders wrong'd, by their firewater craz'd, <br />There was no one our braves to restrain; <br />So the swift flew, and the tomahawk was raise'd <br />While we both mourn'd the blood of our slain; <br />So the smoke-wreath did cease from the calumet of peace, <br />While we both mourn'd the blood of our slain. <br /> <br />When the oaks, pines and cedars were fell'd to the ground, <br />'Twas a sight that with sorrow we saw; <br />For the game fled affrighted, and no food was found <br />For the old chief, the papoose and squaw. <br />Driven westward we came, but the paleface was here, <br />With his sharp axe and death-flashing gun; <br />And his great iron horse is rumbling in the rear <br />"O, my brave men!" your journey is done. <br />Like the beaver and elk like the buffalo and deer <br />"O, my brave men!" your journey is done.<br /><br />Henry Clay Work<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-song-of-the-red-man/
