Classic Poem

Content within his wigwam warm,
Canonicus sate by the fire;
Without, the voices of the storm
Shrieked ever high and higher.

Eager and wild, the spiteful wind
Tore at the thatch with fingers strong;
The Sachem fed the fire within
And hummed a hunting-song.

Sudden upon the crusted snow
He caught a sound not of the storm —
A sound of footsteps dragging slow
Towards his shelter warm.

He drew aside the flap of skin;
A stranger at the threshold stood;
Canonicus bade him enter in,
And gave him drink and food.

His hand he gave in friendship true,
Land for a home gave he;
And he learned of the love of Christ Jesu,
Who died upon the tree.

To the stranger guest sweet life he gave;
For a State he saved its Sire;
Yea, and his own soul did he save
From burning in hell-fire.