Part 16 (2/2)

Is it not plain by this mark on the stalk, That he was heavily bent in his walk?

Old man be nimble! the old should be good, But thou art a cowardly thief of the wood.

Cereal Chorus. Wagemin! wagemin!

Thief in the blade, Blight of the cornfield Paimosaid.

Recitative. Where, little TAKER of things not your own-- Where is your rattle, your drum, and your bone?

Surely a WALKER so nimble of speed, Surely he must be a Meta[13] indeed.

See how he stoops, as he breaks off the ear, Nushka![14] he seems for a moment in fear; Walker, be nimble--oh! walker be brief, Hooh![15] If it is plain the old man is the thief.

Cereal chorus. Wagemin! wagemin!

Thief in the blade, Blight of the cornfield Paimosaid.

Recitative. Wab.u.ma![16] corn-taker, why do you lag?

None but the stars see you--fill up your bag!

Why do you linger to gaze as you pull, Tell me, my little man, is it most full?

A-tia![17] see, a red spot on the leaf, Surely a warrior cannot be a thief!

Ah, little night-thief, be deer your pursuit, And leave here no print of your dastardly foot.

[13] A Juggler.

[14] A sharp exclamation quickly to behold something striking.

[15] A derogatory exclamation.

[16] Behold thou.

[17] A masculine exclamation, to express surprise.

TO HEALTH.

BY THE LATE JOHN JOHNSTON, ESQ.

Health! dearest of the heavenly powers, With thee to pa.s.s my evening hours, Ah! deign to hear my prayer; For what can wealth or beauty give, If still in anguish doomed to live A slave to pain and care.

Not sovereign power, nor charms of love, Nor social joys the heart can move, If thou refuse thy aid; E'en friends.h.i.+p, sympathy divine!

Does, in thy absence, faintly s.h.i.+ne, Thou all-inspiring maid.

Return then, to my longing soul, Which sighs to feel thy sweet control Transfused through every pore; My muse, enraptured, then shall sing Thee--gift of heaven's all bounteous king, And gratefully adore.

_February 4, 1807._

DOMESTIC AND SOCIAL MANNERS OF THE INDIANS, WHILE ON THEIR WINTERING GROUNDS.

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