Wlliam Gilmore Simms
Southward Ho! A Spell of Sunshine >> Chapter VII / Pocahontas; A Legend of Virginia >> Page 116

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Poetry | Redfield | 1854
Transcription 116 SOUTHWARD HO !
One descends, a form of light,
As if borne with downward flight,
You may hardly gather whence; Slight the form, and with a grace Caught from heaven its native place; Bright of eye, and with a cheek, In its glowing ever meek,
With a maiden modesty,
That puts Love, a subject, by;�And such soft and streaming tresses, That the gazer stops and blesses, Having sudden dreams that spell
Reason on her throne, and make All the subject thoughts rebel,
For the simple fancy's sake !
Such the vision now ! The ring Yields,� and lo! before the king, Down she sinks beneath the throne Where he sits in strength alone,�She upon a lowly stone!
And her tresses settle down
Loosely on her shoulders brown Heedless she, the while, of aught But the terror in her thought. Eager in her fears, her hand
Rests upon his knee�her eye�Gazing on the fierce command
Throned in his with majesty�She alone at that dark hour,
Dare approach the man of power.

VII.
Dread the pause that followed then In those ranks of savage men; Fain would Powhatan declare
What is working in his soul; But the eye that meets him there, As the maiden upward looks,
Spells him with a sweet control Never long his spirit brooks
Such control�his angry eye Seeks her with reproving fire,
And her lips, with fond reply, Part to calm the rising ire;
Soft the accents, yet the sound Strangely breaks the silence round.