But Jamestown show’d another sight
To that bright morning sun--
Three hundred hostile men stood there,
All arm’d with sword and gun,
And breathing out a stern resolve
To hunt the savage race,
With fire and sword and ceaseless war,
Till not a single trace
Of all the tribes of Powhatan
Should in the land be seen,
To cry for blood, or tell the world
That such a race had been.
How these were saved from blood and death
On that red night of wo,
The Indian never knew, and now
It matters not to know.
Enough, that timely warning came
For them to up and arm;
That when the gleam of the Indian torch
Flash’d out its first alarm,
A dozen muskets blazed at once,
And torch and bearer fell,
And the foe fled swift when he heard the roar
Through the echoing forest swell.