Gertrude of Wyoming; Or, The Pennsylvanian Cottage

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George Routledge and Company, 1857 - 94 páginas
 

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Página 69 - I appeal to any white man to say, if ever he entered Logan's cabin hungry, and he gave him not meat; if ever he came cold and naked, and he clothed him not. During the course of the last long and bloody war Logan remained idle in his cabin, an advocate for peace. Such was my love for the whites, that my countrymen pointed as they passed, and said, 'Logan is the friend of white men.
Página 69 - There runs not a drop of my blood in the veins of any living creature. This called on me for revenge. I have sought it; I have killed many; I have fully glutted my vengeance. For my country, I rejoice at the beams of peace; but do not harbor a thought that mine is the joy of fear.
Página 21 - LOVE ! in such a wilderness as this, Where transport and security entwine, Here is the empire of thy perfect bliss, And here thou art a god indeed divine. Here shall no forms abridge, no hours confine, The views, the walks, that boundless joy inspire ! Roll on, ye days of raptured influence, shine ! Nor, blind with ecstasy's celestial fire, Shall love behold the spark of earth-born time expire.
Página 68 - In the spring of 1 774, a robbery and murder were committed on an inhabitant of the frontiers of Virginia, by two Indians of the Shawanee tribe. The neighbouring whites, according to their custom, undertook to punish this outrage in a summary manner. Colonel Cresap, a man infamous for the many murders he had committed on those much injured people...
Página 68 - But do not harbor a thought that mine is the joy of fear. Logan never felt fear. He will not turn on his heel to save his life.
Página 49 - And by my side, in battle true, A thousand warriors drew the shaft? Ah ! there in desolation cold The desert serpent dwells alone, Where grass o'ergrows each mouldering bone, And stones themselves to ruin grown, Like me, are death-like old : Then seek we not their camp — for there The silence dwells of my despair.
Página 67 - ... that in ancient times a herd of these tremendous animals came to the Big-bone licks, and began an universal destruction of the bear, deer, elks, buffaloes, and other animals which had been created for the use of the Indians...
Página 49 - But hark, the trump ! — to-morrow thou In glory's fires shalt dry thy tears : Ev'n from the land of shadows now My father's awful ghost appears Amidst the clouds that round us roll ; He bids my soul for battle thirst, He bids me dry the last — the first — The only tears that ever burst From Outalissi's soul ; Because I may not stain with grief The death-song of an Indian chiefc
Página 34 - I alone am left on earth ! To whom nor relative nor blood remains, No ! — not a kindred drop that runs in human veins !t xviii.
Página 69 - Logan, not even sparing my women and children. There runs not a drop of my blood in the veins of any living creature. This called on me for revenge. I have sought it: I have killed many: I have fully...

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