Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, THE BRAVE BROTHER, by LYDIA HUNTLEY SIGOURNEY


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

THE BRAVE BROTHER, by                 Poet Analysis     Poet's Biography
First Line: Two little brothers thro' the forest roam'd
Last Line: For their deliverance.
Subject(s): Brothers; Courage; Half-brothers; Valor; Bravery


TWO little brothers thro' the forest roam'd,
In old time far away. -- Not then, as now,
The lordly mansion, and the heavenward spire
Chequer'd the landscape, -- but the low-roof'd hut,
With here and there a wigwam -- told the life
Of toil and hardship of the sires who stood
On Plymouth-rock.
The children wander'd wide, --
O'er stream and thicket, -- their fresh spirits glad
With boyhood's liberty. -- Intent they sought
The ripening nuts, or that small, purple grape,
Which waiteth for the frost to clarify
The acid of its blood.
But their lone walk
Was all too early for such sylvan spoil;
For jocund autumn still delay'd to ope
The chestnut's thorny sheath, or to divide
The quarter'd coat that in close armour wrapp'd
The hickory's favourite fruit. --
Hark! a strange sound
Snarling, and hoarse: and thro' the parted boughs
Two fiery wolf-eyes glared. --
The younger boy, --
As the fierce, ravening beast his form reveal'd
Transfix'd with horror, -- fill'd the echoing shades
With cries of anguish. But the elder felt
A sudden manhood thro' his pulses start,
Prompting to guard and save the helpless one
Or die beside him.
Soothing with kind words
The frantic child, and knowing flight was vain,
He drew his wood-knife, and upon the sward
Planting his bare feet firmly, -- stood resolv'd, --
A better hero, in the holy warmth
Of deep fraternal love, -- than many a one
Who wins the world's proud laurel, with the waste
Of others' blood, to gratify the aims
Of pitiless ambition.
It would seem
The wolf had cower'd a moment, at the glance
Of that determined eye, -- but with fierce growl
And open jaws, and deadly gnashing teeth
Still nearer drew. --
Alas! the mother's heart, --
Who in her lowly cabin turn'd the wheel, --
Singing, at times, low snatches of the songs
Brought from the Father-land, -- and felt no thrill
Premonitory, of her darlings' doom. --
A sudden, sharp report! -- a flying shot! --
The monster roll'd in blood. --
Through rustling boughs, --
A red-brow'd hunter strode. -- His lofty port,
And plumed brow, bespoke a chieftain's pride, --
While with a bright, approving eye he scann'd
The noble boy. --
"If the intruding race
Of pale-fac'd men have bosoms brave as thine, --
The acorn they have planted in the wild
Shall take deep root and spread its branches wide, --
O'er land and sea, -- upheld by Him who sits
Above the thunder."
Mid the forest-depths
Again he plung'd, -- while to their humble home
The brothers hasted, -- in the parents' soul
To wake the enraptur'd prayer of tearful joy
For their deliverance.





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