120 THE HUNTER'S SERENADE. The forest's leaping panther, I know, for thou hast told me, The earth has no more gorgeous sight In meadows red with blossoms, All summer long, the bee Murmurs, and loads his yellow thighs, Or wouldst thou gaze at tokens Our old oaks stream with mosses, And mighty vines, like serpents, climb The giant sycamore; And trunks, o'erthrown for centuries, Cumber the forest floor; And in the great savanna The solitary mound, Built by the elder world, o'erlooks The loneliness around. SONG OF MARION'S MEN. OUR band is few, but true and tried, Our leader frank and bold; The British soldier trembles When Marion's name is told. As seamen know the sea. Within the dark morass. Wo to the English soldiery SONG OF MARION'S MEN. 123 And they who fly in terror deem A mighty host behind, And hear the tramp of thousands Upon the hollow wind. Then sweet the hour that brings release From danger and from toil : We talk the battle over, And share the battle's spoil. The woodland rings with laugh and shout, As if a hunt were up, And woodland flowers are gathered To crown the soldier's cup. With merry songs we mock the wind And slumber long and sweetly, Well knows the fair and friendly moon The glitter of their rifles, The scampering of their steeds. 'Tis life to guide the fiery barb Across the moonlight plain; Before the peep of day. 124 SONG OF MARION'S MEN. Grave men there are by broad Santee, Grave men with hoary hairs, With smiles like those of summer, |