Elizabeth Margaret Chandler

“ Pour'd ‘midst their hidden dells his wild halloo,
And the light shaft with aim unerring threw.
Proud was his spirit, fierce, untamed and free,
Scorning to crouch to pain, from death to flee,
With feelings suited to his savage state,
Faithful alike to friendship or to hate,
Seeking no meed beyond a warrior's fame,
And fearing nought except a coward's shame. ”