258 
TRAVELS ON THE RIO NEGRO. 
To pray as they’ve been taught unto their God. 
It was a pleasing sight, that Sabbath morn, 
Reminding me of distant, dear-loved home. 
On one side knelt the men, their simple dress 
A shirt and trowsers of coarse cotton cloth : 
On the other side were women and young girls, 
Their glossy tresses braided with much taste, 
And on their necks all wore a kerchief gay. 
And some a knot of riband in their hair. 
How like they look’d, save in their dusky skin, 
To a fair group of English village maids ! 
Yet far superior in their graceful forms ; 
For their free growth no straps or bands impede, 
Rut simple food, free air, and daily baths 
And exercise, give all that Nature asks 
To mould a beautiful and healthy frame. 
Each day some labour calls them. Now they go 
To fell the forest’s pride, or in canoe. 
With hook, and spear, and arrow, to catch fish ; 
Or seek the various products of the wood. 
To make their baskets or their hanging beds. 
The women dig the mandiocca root. 
And with much labour make of it their bread. 
These plant the young shoots in the fertile earth- - 
Earth all untiU’d, to which the plough, or spade. 
Or rake, or harrow, are alike unknown. 
The young girls carry water on their heads 
In weU-formed pitchers, just like Cambrian maids ; 
And all each morn and eve wash in the stream. 
And sport like mermaids in the sparkling wave. 
The village is laid out with taste and skill : 
In the midst a spacious square, where stands the church. 
And narrow streets diverging all around. 
Retween the houses, filling up each space. 
The broad, green-leaved, luxuriant plantain grows. 
Rearing huge bunches of most wholesome fruit ; 
The orange too is there, and grateful lime j 
The Inga pendent hangs its yard-long pods 
