The Caledonian., May 8, 1838
FOR THE CALEDONIAN.
THE CHEROKEE'S FAREWELL.
Farewell, farewell to the place of our birth,
The pale face commands us and we must obey,
No rest to the red man while ling'ring on earth;
Our lands, they are wanted, and we must away.
Farewell, farewell to the home of our youth,
To the woods and the vales, where in childhood we rov'd;
Did the white man regard either justice, or truth,
We should not from hence, far away be removed.
Farewell, farewell to the graves of our sires,
To the green turfs, long hallow'd, in seasons gone-by;
We had hop'd to have liv'd by our own council fires;
We had hop'd in the graves of our fathers to lie.
Farewell to our hopes—they forever have flown,
For the haughty pale faces now covet our lands;
Faith kept with the Indian, to them is unknown,
And oppression is all we receive from their hands.
Ye who call yourselves Christians, come now and possess
What of right should belong to the robb'd Cherokee;
The poor weary red man will soon be at rest,
And your hearts will rejoice when his downfall you see.
Beyond Mississippi's dark waters we go,
But the arm of your power, still our steps will pursue,
No rest will the son of the forest e'er know,
Till like night's dizzy visions, he passes from view.
Regrets are now useless—complaint is in vain,
Our remonstrance despis'd, on the table is laid;
We must yield, to the white man, our much lov'd domain,
For, by baseness unequall'd our rights are betray'd.
But, though ye despise us, ye foes to our race,
Think not to escape the just vengeance of Heaven;
In the book of remembrance, our wrongs have a place,
And full retribution to you will be given.
Heard you that sad lament,
Ye rulers of our land?
Then, let your hearts relent,
For judgment is at hand.
The injured red man's cry
Will not in vain ascend;
The God who rules on high,
A ready ear will lend.
Repent ye of your wrong,
Before it be too late;
Repent, or you, ere long,
Will share the Indian's fate.
E. C. S.
Waterford, April 1838.
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