Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, THE INDIAN GONE!, by JOSIAH D. CANNING

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THE INDIAN GONE!, by             Poet's Biography
First Line: By night I saw the hunter's moon
Last Line: It answered me!
Subject(s): Native Americans; Indians Of America; American Indians; Indians Of South America

By night I saw the Hunter's moon
Slow gliding in the placid sky;
Her lustre mocked the sun at noon --
I asked myself the reason why?
And straightway came the sad reply:

She shines as she was wont to do
To aid the Indian's aiming eye,
When by her light he strung his bow,
But where is he?

Beside the ancient flood I strayed,
Where dark traditions mark the shore;
With wizzard vision I essayed
Into the misty past to pore.

I heard a mournful voice deplore
The perfidy that slew his race;
'T was in a dialect of yore,
And of a long-departed race.
It answered me!

I wrought with ardor at the plough
One smoky Indian-summer day;
The dank locks swept my heated brow,
I bade the panting oxen stay.

Beneath me in the furrow lay
A relic of the chase, full low;
I brushed the crumbling soil away --
The Indian fashioned it, I know,
But where is he?

When pheasants drumming in the wood
Allured me forth my aim to try,
Amid the forest lone I stood,
And the dead leaves went rustling by.
The breeze played in the branches high;

Slow music filled my listening ear;
It was a wailing funeral cry,
For Nature mourned her children dear.
It answered me!

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