Cherokee Phoenix


Published March, 24, 1832

Page 4 Column 1a


From the Boston Recorder.


'All ye that are about him, bemoan, him and all ye that know his name, say, How is the strong staff broken! and the beautiful rod!'___ Jeremiah 48:17

It cannot be, It cannot be, that thou art on thy bier?--

But yesterday in all the prime of life's unspent career

I've seen the forest's noblest tree laid low

when lightenings (sic) shine.

And the column in its majesty torn from

the temple shrine,

But little deem'd that ice so soon would

check thy vital stream,

Or the sun that soar'd without a cloud thus

veiled its noon-tide beam.

I've seen thee in thy glory stand, while all

around was hush'd

And seraph wisdom from thy lips, in tones

of music gush'd;

For thou with willing hand didst lay at

joyous mourning's hour,

Down at the feet of Him who gave, thy

beauty and thy power,--

Thou for the helpless sons of woe didst

plead with words of flame,

And boldly strike the rocky heart, in thy

Redeemer's name.

And lo! that withering race who fade as

dew 'neath Summer's ray,

Who like the rootless weed are toss'd

from their own earth away,

Who trusted to a nation's vow, but found

that faith was vain,

And to their fathers' sepulchers return no

more again,--

They need thy blended eloquence of lip

and eye and brow

They need the righteous as a shield,-why

are thou absent now?

Long shall thine image freshly dwell be-

side their ancient streams,

Or mid their wanderings far and wide shall

gild their alien dreams,--

For Heaven to their sequester's haunts

thine early steps did guide,

And the Cherokee hath blest thy prayer

his cabin hearth beside,--

The Osage orphan meekly breath'd her

sorrows to thine ear,

And the lofty warrior knelt him down with

strange, repentant ear.

I see a consecrated throng of youthful

watchmen rise,

Still girding on for Zion's sake, their heaven

wrought panoplies;--

These in their solitude obscure thy generous

ardor sought,

And gathering with a tireless hand up to

the temple brought;

These, when the altar of their God they

serve with hallow's zeal,

Shall wear thy memory on their heart, an

everlasting seal.

I hear a voice of wailing from the islands

of the sea

Salvation's distant heralds mourn on

heathen shores for thee,

The constant love like Gilead's balm

refresh'd their weary mind,

And with the holy Evarts' name, thine

own was strongly twin'd;

But then from their astonish'd gaze hast

like a vision fled,

Just wrapt (sic) his mantle round thy breast,

then join'd him with the dead.

Farewell, We yield thee to the grave with

many a bitter tear,

Though it was not meet a soul like thine

should longer tarry here,

Fond clustering hopes have sunk with

thee that earth can ne'er restore;

Love casts a garland as thy turf that may

not blossom more;

But thou art where the dream of Hope

doth in fruition fade,

And love immortal and refined, glow in

without a shade.

Hartford, Feb. 12th 1832 L. H. S.