Convoy'd their Stores, protected them from Harm,

Nay, put them in Possession of Detroit;

And join'd to fill the Air with loud Huzzas

When England's Flag was planted on its Walls?

Yet, since, he seems displeas'd at their Success,

Thinks himself injured, treated with Neglect

By their Commanders, as of no Account,

As one subdu'd and conquer'd with the French,

As one, whose Right to Empire now is lost,

And he become a Vassal of their Power,

Instead of an Ally. At this he's mov'd,

And in his Royal Bosom glows Revenge,

Which I suspect will sudden burst and spread

Like Lightning from the Summer's burning Cloud,

That instant sets whole Forests in a Blaze.

Chekitan.

Chekitan.

Something like this I have indeed perceiv'd;

And this explains what I but now beheld,

Returning from the Chace, myself concealed,

 Prev. P 57/204 next