30. Welcome to him the earliest gleam of light; A quest like his is cheerfully pursued, 31. And now where Empalado's waters creep Through low and level shores of woodland wide, They come; prepared to cross the sluggish deep, An ill-shaped coracle of hardest hide, Ruder than ever Cambrian fisher plied Where Towey and the salt-sea waters meet, The Indians launch; they steady it and guide, Winning their way with arms and practised feet, While in the tottering boat the Father keeps his seat. 32. For three long summer days on every side And through the mazes of the pathless wood The slightest mark of man, they there explore the way. 33. More cautious when more certain of the trace In silence they proceed; not like a crew Of jovial hunters, who the joyous chase With hound and horn in open field pursue, Cheering their way with jubilant halloo, And hurrying forward to their spoil desired, The panting game before them, full in view: Humaner thoughts this little band inspired, Yet with a hope as high their gentle hearts were fired. 34. Nor is their virtuous hope devoid of fear; Who not for friendly words, nor proffer'd show If by such hands their blameless blood should flow To serve the Lamb who for their sins was slain, Blessed indeed their lot, for so to die is gain ! 35. Them thus pursuing where the track may lead, A human voice arrests upon their way; They stop, and thither whence the sounds proceed, All eyes are turn'd in wonder, not dismay, ... For sure such sounds might charm all fear away; Ever pour'd forth so wild a strain of melody. 36. The voice which through the ringing forest floats Is one which having ne'er been taught the skill Of marshalling sweet words to sweeter notes, Utters all unpremeditate, at will, A modulated sequence loud and shrill Of inarticulate and long-breathed sound, With that far-piercing power of melody resound. 37. In mute astonishment attent to hear, As if by some enchantment held, they stood, To check all speech or step that might intrude On that sweet strain. Them leaving thus spell-bound, 'A little way alone into the wood The Father gently moved toward the sound, Treading with quiet feet upon the grassy ground. 38. Anon advancing thus the trees between, The strains which she had learnt from all sweet birds of spring. 39. For these had been her teachers, these alone; At length into a descant of her own And now as blithe as bird in vernal bower, 40. In joy had she begun the ambitious song, As if the voice exulted there to dwell; That with the music of its dying strain 41. It might be deem'd some dim presage possess'd For what thou losest in thy native shade Only one change, and it will not be long delay'd! 42. When now the Father issued from the wood Like one entranced, beholding him, she stood; Wherefore he came; his garb and beard she knew; All that her mother heard had then indeed been true. 43. Nor was the Father fill'd with less surprise; He might have thought her not of mortal strain; For in her beauty Mooma such might seem, Being less a child of earth than like a poet's dream. 44. No art of barbarous ornament had scarr'd In her sweet countenance the natural grace |