THE ZAMAXG OF GUAY11A. 529 



Now comes a troop of dwarfish elves, palm-crown'd in nature's garb 

 What have ye done, ye little ones what sorrows have ye shar'd? 

 Why seek the shrine why kneel why ask its prophet voice ? 

 What can it answer, joyous ones but, " Go, ye must rejoice !" 



Taught by their sires, in homage pure, to seek the temple's shade, 

 Now at its foot their knees are bent their palm-crowns humbly laid ; 

 High waving, stirr'd by passing breeze, it shouts with louder voice, 

 It sounds upon the children's ears "Go forth rejoice rejoice!" 



There tottering stands a patriarch Time's snows are o'er him flung, 

 High deeds are his a warlike fame a hut with trophies hung; 

 Gazing, he stands beneath the dome he dimly hears thy voice, 

 It mutters low " Thy father's home the spirit-land rejoice !" 



With bounding tread, with flashing eyes, in manhood's early pride, 

 Here comes, in warrior's panoply, the glory of their tribe ; 

 In feather'd tunic war-stain'd skin they seek to hear thy voice, 

 Thy trumpet-shout rings wildly round " The battle-field rejoice!" 



Now timid as a startled fawn, a trembling maiden stands, 

 With braided hair, with cinctur'd waist, with lote-flowers in her hands ; 

 Fast coming blushes tinge her cheek what says thine awful voice? 

 In odorous whispers round it creeps it sighs " He loves rejoice I" 



Glorious, majestic fane ! magnificent, vast tree ! 



Who wonders that thy votaries bow down and worship thee ! 



How mighty is thy power ! fancy translates thy voice, 



To all who seek thine augury, thou murmurest " Rejoice !" 



Far from the green savannah's breast far from the mountain's side, 

 Far from the v allies' rugged homes far from the foaming tide, 

 The Indian seeks thy verdant shrine he prays he hears thy voice, 

 The breeze is ever whispering there Bright tree, dost thou rejoice ? 



Far better than the Grecian's trust purer than Delphi's caves, 



The wind of heaven breathes freshly round no madden'd priesthood raves; 



Wave, ever wave thy silvery leaves for ever sound thy voice, 



For ever let thy million tongues in chorus sing " Rejoice !" 



G 



