Alone, unfriended, on a foreign shore,
Behold an hapless, melancholy maid,
Begging her scanty fare from door to door,
With piteous voice, and humbly bended head.
Alas! her native tongue is known to few;
Her manners and her garb excite surprice;
The vulgar stare to see her bid adieu;
Her tattered garments fix their curious eyes.
Cease, cease your laugh, ye thoughtless vain;
Why sneer at yon poor Indian's pain?
'Tis natur's artless voice that speaks: -
Behold! the tear, bedew her cheeks!
Imploring actions, - bursting sighs,
Reveal enough to British eyes!
Behold an hapless, melancholy maid,
Begging her scanty fare from door to door,
With piteous voice, and humbly bended head.
Alas! her native tongue is known to few;
Her manners and her garb excite surprice;
The vulgar stare to see her bid adieu;
Her tattered garments fix their curious eyes.
Cease, cease your laugh, ye thoughtless vain;
Why sneer at yon poor Indian's pain?
'Tis natur's artless voice that speaks: -
Behold! the tear, bedew her cheeks!
Imploring actions, - bursting sighs,
Reveal enough to British eyes!