The warm spring came, and the opening flower
On the sloping hill was seen;
And summer breathed on the waking woods,
And dress’d them in their green;
The wild-bird in the branches sung,
The wild-deer fed below;
Far up the river side appear’d
The hunter with his bow;
And on the fresh and sunny field,
Hard toiling through the day,
The weary colonist was out
By the groves of Paspahey.
Ship after ship came o’er the sea,
Laden with fresh supplies,
And men by hundreds came to join
This new world’s enterprise;
And up and down the noble James
Were settlements begun,
And many an opening in the woods
Look’d out upon the sun.
The busy tradesman ope’d his store
Of goods and wares for sale,
And blithely by the barnyard sang
The milkmaid with her pail;
The stout mechanic in his shop
Whistled the hours away,
And sturdily his labor plied
Through the long summer day.
With boding and uneasy mind
The thoughtful Indian view’d
The fatal signs of English power
Spread o’er his solitude;
And oft he brooded many a scheme,
And much he long’d to see
A withering blight or death-blow given
To this wide-spreading tree.