THE TREE of PEACE, &c

Now the joyful Morning shone, Bright as e'er was Morning known; When the Indian Nations met, The fair Tree of Peace to set.

As the Tribes, there, all prepar'd, The Solemnity regard; From amidst th' attentive Throng, Maratho began the Song.

Plant and bless the facred Tree, Prosp'rous may its Shadow be! Fast lay hold of Earth its Roots! Be the Fruits of Peace its Fruits!

Lofty let its Top arise, And be favour'd by the Skies! Spirits good, from High who view, Water it with heav'nly Dew!

Now lay hold of Concord's Chain; Ev'ry Hand a Link maintain! Let each Heart the Band confess! And united Voices bless.

Bind it graceful round your Arms, Gird your selves with all its Charms; Fair and splendid let it shine For this is the Chain Divine.

But the Grave of War, — the Pit, Bury th' Ax now deep m in it: Never more thine Edge uprear, Keep it Earth, — O keep it there.

Yet if it must rise again, If bad Faith should break the Chain, Then, O Earth, thy Charge deliver With a keener Edge than ever.

Rather, hence, let Men be wise, Learning Works of Peace to prize; Man to Man, no more a Foe, Cease devising mutual Woe.

Are there not wild Beasts in store, Thro' the Forrests to explore? Why should wrong taught Weapons dare, 'Gainst the Life of Man to war?

Happy Peace from Heav'n was sent To bid Savage Rage relent, And of better Life be fond; And approve the social Bond.

Turn, she says, 'all th' Iron War 'To a sitter Use by far; 'That which Mankind did destroy, 'To improve the Earth employ;

'From the River, from the Wood 'Let your young Men bring you Food, 'For the fair Support of Life; 'And hence know no other Strife.

'Let them vie to make the Field, 'More abundant Bread to yield, 'And where now the Wood-Land stands, 'Shew well cultivated Lands.

'And, withal, O let them learn 'Virtue's Beauties to discern, 'T' understand what's good and true, 'That which Men should most pursue.'

Think you hear from sacred Peace, Breathing Balsam, Words like these: In your Hearts these Words receive, In your Memories engrave.

Send, Corlaer, more good Men here, Who such Words may more endear, And our Knowledge more increase, From the House and Book of Peace.

The Great Spirit, Lord of all, He, who bids the Thunder roll, Who commanded the Sun's Birth, Who sends Showers to water th' Earth.

The most potent Sovereign, Gracious to the Sons of Men, He the troubled World seren'd, He for us this Peace ordain'd.

The high Sachem, at the Helm Of the pow'rtul British Realm, GEORGE, who's Great on Lands and Seas, Indians, is a Friend to Peace:

Deeds of War, in his Esteem, Which to others pompous seem, Are not great, but as they tend In a happy Peace to end.

He has set a Tree of Peace, Th' Earth, and the great Lake to grace; May the Nations love its Shade! And its Verdure never sade!

And this Tree which we erect, Be it guarded, be it deck'd By the royal Sachem's Care, Giv'n in Charge to the Corlaer.

Given in Charge,— yet still retain'd; Reign thus long, as thou hast reign'd, And thy various Realms survey, As the Sun maintains its Sway:

Shine on all,— look into all,— Nor the distant seem too small; That might wrong a vulgar Eye, Not the Ken of Majesty.

Guardian Britain! tho' remote, Yet of mighty Name and Note, Let thy Peace our Peace complete! And thy Grandeur make us great.

All these Coasts,— but, Thou, great Isle Have high Heavn's continual Smile! Still, a Sov'reign happy Land! Still, the Seat of Empire stands!

Indian Nations! now repeat,— 'Heav'n preserve the British State! 'And the British Chief, and Race, 'And these Lands,— and bless the Peace.'

Where's Yariza's blooming Train, Let them now adorn the Scene: Let the Virgin Band advance, And her Song direct their Dance.