Tecumseh : a Drama

Tecumseh must have perished! Joy has tears As well as grief, and mine will freely flow— Sembling our women’s piteous privilege— Whilst dry ambition ambles to its ends. My schemes have swelled to greatness, and my name Has flown so far upon the wings of fear That nations tremble at its utterance. Our braves abhor, yet stand in awe of me, Who ferret witchcraft out, commune with Heaven, And ope or shut the gloomy doors of death.