The Aged Indian
Warriors! my noon of life is past,The brightness of my spirit flown;I crouch before the wintry blast,Amidst my tribe I dwell alone;The heroes of my youth are fled,They rest among the warlike dead.
Ye slumberers of the narrow cave!My kindred chiefs in days of yore!Ye fill an unremember’d grave,Your fame, your deeds, are known no more.The records of your wars are gone,Your names forgot by all but one.
Soon shall that one depart from earth,To join the brethren of his prime;Then will the memory of your birthSleep with the hidden things of time.With him, ye sons of former days!Fades the last glimmering of your praise.
His eyes, that hail’d your spirits’ flame,Still kindling in the combat’s shock,Have seen, since darkness veil’d your fame,Sons of the desert and the rock!Another and another raceRise to the battle and the chase.
Descendants of the mighty dead!Fearless of heart, and firm of hand!Oh, let me join their spirits fled--Oh! send me to their shadowy land.Age hath not tamed Ontara’s heart--He shrinks not from the friendly dart.
These feet no more can chase the deer,The glory of this arm is flown;--Why should the feeble linger hereWhen all the pride of life is gone?Warriors! why still the stroke deny?Think ye Ontara fears to die?
He fear’d not in his flower of days,When strong to stem the torrent’s force,When through the desert’s pathless mazeHis way was as an eagle’s course!When war was sunshine to his sight,And the wild hurricane delight!
Shall, then, the warrior tremble now?Now when his envied strength is o’er--Hung on the pine his idle bow,His pirogue useless on the shore?When age hath dimm’d his failing eye,Shall he, the joyless, fear to die?
Sons of the brave! delay no more--The spirits of my kindred call.’Tis but one pang, and all is o’er!Oh, bid the aged cedar fall!To join the brethren of his prime,The mighty of departed time.
Words in this poem
- flown a.
- Flushed, inflated.
- wintry a.
- Suitable to winter; resembling winter, or what belongs to winter; brumal; hyemal; cold; stormy; wintery. [AS. wintrig.]
- amidst prep.
- In the midst or middle of; surrounded or encompassed by; among. [OE. amidde, amiddes, on midden, AS. on middan, in the middle, fr. midde the middle. The s is an adverbial ending, originally marking the genitive; the t is a la]
- dwell v. i.
- To delay; to linger. [OE. dwellen, dwelien, to err, linger, AS. dwellan to deceive, hinder, delay, dwelian to err; akin to Icel. dvelja to delay, tarry, Sw. dväljas to dwell, Dan. dv]
- yore adv.
- In time long past; in old time; long since. [OE. , yare, , AS. geára;akin to geár a year, E. year. Year.]
- shall v. i.
- To owe; to be under obligation for. [OE. shal, schal, imp. sholde, scholde, AS. scal, sceal, I am obliged, imp. scolde, sceolde, inf. sculan; akin to OS. skulan, pres. skal, imp. skolda, D. zullen,]
- depart v. i.
- To part; to divide; to separate. [OE. departen to divide, part, depart, F. départir to divide, distribute, se départir to separate one's self, depart; pref. dé- (L. de) + partir to part, depart,]
- pathless a.
- Having no beaten path or way; untrodden; impenetrable; as, pathless woods.
- maze n.
- A wild fancy; a confused notion. [OE. mase; cf. OE. masen to confuse, puzzle, Norweg. masast to fall into a slumber, masa to be continually busy, prate, chatter, Icel. masa to chatter, dial. Sw.]
- sunshine n.
- The light of the sun, or the place where it shines; the direct rays of the sun, the place where they fall, or the warmth and light which they give.
- pirogue n.
- A dugout canoe; by extension, any small boat. [Written variously periauger, perogue, piragua, periagua, etc.] [Originally an American Indian word: cf. F. pirogue, Sp. piroga, piragua.]
- joyless a.
- Not having joy; not causing joy; unenjoyable.
Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.
About this text
The Aged Indian is in the public domain. This text is taken from The Poems of Felicia Hemans, Project Gutenberg ebook #66785; the transcription's header, footer and licence were removed and nothing else was changed. You may copy, print and reuse it freely.
Cite as: Felicia Hemans, The Aged Indian, in Poems (1808–1835), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #66785, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/hemans-poems/the-aged-indian.html, id L13474.
Form and metre
The Aged Indian is 54 lines in 9 stanzas of 6 lines each. The rhyme scheme is ABABCC, complete in 5 of its 9 stanzas. The metre is iambic tetrameter, measured from the stress the words themselves fix (confidence 89%). 94% of its stressed syllables fall where the metre puts the beat. The lines average 8.2 syllables. 7% of the lines run on without a stop at the line end.
See other poems in iambic tetrameter.
Measured by Laurel's pipeline, not copied from a handbook: how stress and metre are counted, how rhyme is lettered, how a drifted rhyme is found. Where the dictionary cannot confirm a rhyme the letter is withheld, not guessed.
Rhyme words, stanza by stanza
The word that ends each line, lettered by the rhyme it makes; a dash is a line whose rhyme the dictionary could not confirm.
- 1 ABABCC pastA · flownB · blastA · aloneB · fledC · deadC
- 2 ABAB-- caveA · yoreB · graveA · moreB · gone · one
- 3 ABABCC earthA · primeB · birthA · timeB · daysC · praiseC
- 4 ABABCC flameA · shockB · fameA · rockB · raceC · chaseC
- 5 ABABCC deadA · handB · fledA · landB · heartC · dartC
- 6 A-A-BB deerA · flown · hereA · gone · denyB · dieB
- 7 ABABCC daysA · forceB · mazeA · courseB · sightC · delightC
- 8 A-A-BB nowA · o'er · bowA · shore · eyeB · dieB
- 9 -A-ABB more · callA · o'er · fallA · primeB · timeB
Scansion, line by line
Each line with its syllable count and the stresses the words themselves fix: / stressed, ˘ unstressed, · a syllable the word leaves free and the metre decides. Read against iambic tetrameter. How this is done.
| Line | Syl. | Stress |
|---|---|---|
| Warriors! my noon of life is past, | 9 | /˘˘······ |
| The brightness of my spirit flown; | 8 | ·/˘··/˘· |
| I crouch before the wintry blast, | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| Amidst my tribe I dwell alone; | 8 | ˘/····˘/ |
| The heroes of my youth are fled, | 8 | ·/˘····· |
| They rest among the warlike dead. | 8 | ·····/·· |
| Ye slumberers of the narrow cave! | 9 | ······/˘· |
| My kindred chiefs in days of yore! | 9 | ·/˘˘····· |
| Ye fill an unremember’d grave, | 8 | ········ |
| Your fame, your deeds, are known no more. | 8 | ········ |
| The records of your wars are gone, | 8 | ·˘/····· |
| Your names forgot by all but one. | 8 | ··˘/···· |
| Soon shall that one depart from earth, | 8 | ····˘/·· |
| To join the brethren of his prime; | 8 | ···/˘··· |
| Then will the memory of your birth | 9 | ···/˘˘··· |
| Sleep with the hidden things of time. | 8 | ···/˘··· |
| With him, ye sons of former days! | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| Fades the last glimmering of your praise. | 9 | ···/˘˘··· |
| His eyes, that hail’d your spirits’ flame, | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| Still kindling in the combat’s shock, | 8 | ·/˘··˘/· |
| Have seen, since darkness veil’d your fame, | 8 | ···/˘··· |
| Sons of the desert and the rock! | 8 | ···/˘··· |
| Another and another race | 8 | ˘/˘·˘/˘· |
| Rise to the battle and the chase. | 8 | ···/˘··· |
| Descendants of the mighty dead! | 8 | ˘/˘··/˘· |
| Fearless of heart, and firm of hand! | 8 | /˘······ |
| Oh, let me join their spirits fled-- | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| Oh! send me to their shadowy land. | 9 | ·····/˘˘· |
| Age hath not tamed Ontara’s heart-- | 9 | ····˘···· |
| He shrinks not from the friendly dart. | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| These feet no more can chase the deer, | 8 | ········ |
| The glory of this arm is flown;-- | 8 | ·/˘····· |
| Why should the feeble linger here | 8 | ···/˘/˘· |
| When all the pride of life is gone? | 8 | ········ |
| Warriors! why still the stroke deny? | 9 | /˘˘····˘/ |
| Think ye Ontara fears to die? | 8 | ········ |
| He fear’d not in his flower of days, | 9 | ·····/˘·· |
| When strong to stem the torrent’s force, | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| When through the desert’s pathless maze | 8 | ···/˘/˘· |
| His way was as an eagle’s course! | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| When war was sunshine to his sight, | 8 | ···/···· |
| And the wild hurricane delight! | 8 | ···/˘·˘/ |
| Shall, then, the warrior tremble now? | 9 | ···/˘˘/˘· |
| Now when his envied strength is o’er-- | 8 | ···/˘··· |
| Hung on the pine his idle bow, | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| His pirogue useless on the shore? | 8 | ·˘//˘··· |
| When age hath dimm’d his failing eye, | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| Shall he, the joyless, fear to die? | 8 | ···/˘··· |
| Sons of the brave! delay no more-- | 8 | ····˘/·· |
| The spirits of my kindred call. | 9 | ·/˘··/˘˘· |
| ’Tis but one pang, and all is o’er! | 8 | ········ |
| Oh, bid the aged cedar fall! | 7 | ····/˘· |
| To join the brethren of his prime, | 8 | ···/˘··· |
| The mighty of departed time. | 8 | ·/˘·˘/˘· |
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