Herban, a Poem [By R. Rotton.].

This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1825 Excerpt: ...main, It ran towards the spot: he mark'd the child, And as it nearer drew, heard the dove's plain: Twas sad, though feeble', and innocently mild, And Herban ran to greet the stripling of the wild. XLIV. They met: And what would'st thou, my little boy? Thy loss I ween is not unlike mine own, Thy tale the same; did cruel hands destroy Thy parents and thy peace, and leave thee lone, To seek cold refuge on the flinty stone Of wilds or deserts? Tell me, can I give Thee any help, my dear? myself as prone To seek it--where I heed not--who now live In all the brokenness of heart this world can give. XLV. O! could you see, the little one replied, Our pretty village on yon side the wood, You would not ask me, for there side by side My sire and mammy lie, amid the rude And dreary ruin of the cruel feud, That Indians from lake Erie raised among Our quiet homes; they lie, though I have stood All night beside them, and been crying long; They will not wake, nor heed me, yet I've done no wrong. Dear homeless wand'rer o'er life's weary waste, How soon begin thy sorrows! Herban said. And hast thou lost thy sire and mother? haste, And in my bosom let thy grief be laid; They fell sad victims to a demon's blade But we will hope their souls are gone to rest In happier worlds, where woe is well repaid By Heav'n's eternal joys. Sweet cherub guest, I'll be thy friend! He spoke, and clasp'd him to his breast XLVII. O! 'twould have melted harder hearts than their's To' have seen this sight when the war-blood was cool--A widower and an orphan blend their cares Upon the spot they meet--no formal rule, Like the hypocrisy of a mocking fool, Guides their heart-sigh (6), but from the depths they call To One above, whose lowl...