(*Lydia Sigourney)
[** Disc 2:]
You say that they all have passed away*
That noble race and brave
That their light canoes have vanished
Off the crested wave
That 'mid the forests where they roamed
There rings no hunter's shout
But their name is on your waters
And you may not wash it out
'Tis where Ontario's billow
Like Ocean's surge is curled
Where strong Niagara's thunders wake
The echo of the world
Where red Missouri bringeth
Rich tributes from the west
And the Rappahannock sweetly sleeps
On green Virginia's breast
You say, their cone-like cabins
That clustered over the vale
Have fled away like withered leaves
Before the autumn gale
But their memory liveth on your hills
Their baptism on your shore
Your everlasting rivers speak
Their dialect of yore
Old Massachusetts wears it
Within her lordly crown
And broad Ohio bears it
'Mid all her young renown
Connecticut hath wreathed it
Where her quiet foliage waves
And bold Kentucky breathed it hoarse
Through all her ancient caves
Wachuset hides its lingering voice
Within its rocky heart
And Alleghany graves its tone
Throughout his lofty chart
Monadnock on his forehead hoar
Doth seal the sacred trust
Your mountains build their monument
Though you destroy their dust