Elizabeth Margaret Chandler

“ PENN.
My brethren are those whom thou see'st on the strand,
My friends, whom I govern with fatherly hand;
We worship the spirit who rules from above,
Our watchword is peace, and our motto is love.
We fight not, we war not, for life or for land,
And the weapons of death never darken our hand.
The land that in purchase ye cheerfully give,
Will we, for our friends and our brethren, receive;
But we will not deprive you, by force or by fraud,
Of the land that yourselves and your fathers have trod.
CHIEF.
Then deep be the tomahawk buried from sight ”

“ Through the wilds of the forest to follow the chase,
Till brambles have choked up the pathway of peace.
Yet as still we receded our heroes were slain,
Our wives and our children lie dead on the plain. ”

“ Art thou chief of the white men that crowd on the strand?
No broad gleaming sword flashes bright in thy hand—
No plume, proudly waving, sits light on thy brow—
Nor with hate and contempt does thine eye darkly glow. ”