Chapter I

Of all the knights of England,
That ever in armor shone,
The boldest and the truest heart
Was that of brave Sir John.{12}
He had pass’d through perils on the land,
And perils on the sea,
And oftentimes confronted death
In Gaul and Germany;
And many a Transylvanian
Could point to the spot and show
Where the boldest of the Turkish knights
Were by his hand laid low.
And when confined in dungeons,
Or driven as a slave,
The rescue that his own arm brought,
Proved well Sir John was brave.
But now he was a pioneer
In a new world’s solitude;
The first to tread his pathless way
Where frown’d the wild old wood;
And wilder still, the savage tribes
Like fiends look’d fierce and grim,
But they stirr’d not the blood of brave Sir John,
For nothing daunted him.
To plant a British colony
He had cross’d the wide, wide sea,
And found thy future heritage,
O sacred liberty!
Now, infant Jamestown, smiled the morn,
That should behold thy christening;
That gallant band have lined thy shores,
And named thee after England’s king;
And well might English hearts beat high
When first they breath’d thy virgin air,
For never to them seem’d sky so bright,
Nor ever a land so fair.{13}
Young hope was hovering o’er thy groves
With her banner wide unfurl’d,
And on it a mighty empire shone,
The glory of the world.
And fancy saw the wilderness
Like magic melt away,
And tender blossoms of the earth
Spring to the light of day;
And streams, that through the solemn wood
Their ancient courses run,
Felt the fresh breath of mountain airs,
And brighten’d in the sun;
And far along the ocean shore
The sails of commerce flew,
And up a thousand shelter’d bays
Bright cities rose to view;
And all the wide-spread continent,
That slept in dark repose,
Awoke to life and loveliness,
And blossom’d as the rose.

II.

Now crack’d the woodman’s axe full loud,
And fast the sturdy forest bow’d:
Tall trees, that waved like fields of grain,
Came crackling, crashing to the plain;
Their green leaves faded in the sun,
And flashing fires across them run;
And openings spread, and fields were clear’d,
And rustic huts and cabins rear’d.
A picket fort by the river side
The battle-axe and bow defied;
And the mingled hum of the busy throng
Echo’d the hills and woods along,
And joyous shoutings, wild and free,
Rose from the infant colony.

III.

But Jamestown saw a darker day,
When months of toil had pass’d away,
For wailings sounded through the air,
And sorrow made her dwelling there.
The summer sun, now riding high,
Pour’d down the rays of hot July;
The woodman scarce his axe could wield,
Fainted the laborers in the field,
And pale disease began to spread,{14}
And scowling famine rear’d her head,
And many an exile droop’d and died
Along the lonely river side,
Where wearily he went to roam,
And weep unseen for his English home.
Great Powhatan had been obey’d--
No Indian now would come to trade;
But hovering round the settlement
With bow in hand and ready bent,
And peering out from his covert wood
On the fields where the English cabins stood,
Exulting saw pale-faces fade,
And often in the graveyard laid.

IV.

Why perish thus the exiled band,
Where plenty teemeth in the land?
For one abides among them there
With hand to do and heart to dare,
And in his eye and on his brow
Are deeds of daring written now,
That to the fainting band shall be
Warrant for their high destiny.