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From haunt of man, from day's obtrusive glare, Thou shroud'st thee in the ruin's ivy'd tow'r. Or in some shadowy glen's romantic bow'r, Where wizard forms their mystic charms prepare, Where Horror lurks, and ever-boding Care!
With the following poetical translation of these verses, the writer has been favoured by Mr. Sotheby, the elegant translator of "Oberon." Scant battle-field of Chiefs, thro' earth renown'd, Opprest, I loftier tow'r; and, now, while Fate Dreads to destroy, in foreign soil I stand. Thrice chang'd the year, thrice have we chang'd the Foe.
I. The solitary bird of night Thro' thick shades now wings his flight, And quits his time-shook tow'r; Where, shelter'd from the blaze of day, In philosophic gloom he lay, Beneath his ivy bow'r. II. With joy I hear the solemn sound, Which midnight echoes waft around, And sighing gales repeat. Fav'rite of Pallas! I attend, And, faithful to thy summons, bend At Wisdom's awful seat.
On thy Watch Tow'r the pale face his home now makes, His dwelling, the site of the forest tree takes, Gone are thy wigwams, the wild deer now fled, Black Hawk, with his tribe, lie silent and dead. ROCK ISLAND, August 18, 1882. Geo.
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