. Ouâbi:. Beyond * At ftated periods the Indians revifit the fepulchres or cemetariesef their chiefs, and perform certain rites and ceremonies not precifelyknown to the Anglo-Americans. Governor Jefferfon, in his Notes,gives one inftance of this cuftom. f Thefe fepulchres or cemetaries are raifed to a very great heighthabove the Surface of the earth, by immenfe piles of ftones. [See Notes.] And to prevent their being levelled by time, it is areligious duty for every one of the fame nation, who accidentally paflesit, to add one ftone in reverence to the pile. [See Mr. Noah Wehft
. Ouâbi:. Beyond * At ftated periods the Indians revifit the fepulchres or cemetariesef their chiefs, and perform certain rites and ceremonies not precifelyknown to the Anglo-Americans. Governor Jefferfon, in his Notes,gives one inftance of this cuftom. f Thefe fepulchres or cemetaries are raifed to a very great heighthabove the Surface of the earth, by immenfe piles of ftones. [See Notes.] And to prevent their being levelled by time, it is areligious duty for every one of the fame nation, who accidentally paflesit, to add one ftone in reverence to the pile. [See Mr. Noah WehftersLetters to the Rev. Ezra Stiles]—who fays, Rowland remarks that thiscuflom exifts among the vulgar Welfli to this day, the fame kind ofmounts being fcattered over the weft of England and Wales/ the VIRTUES of NATURE. Dear as ourfelves to hold each faithful friend,To tread the path, which innate light infpires,To guard our countrys rites, her foil defend,Is all that nature, all that heavn requires. 5*. \ I. S Jf £ <f. AddreflTed to the inimitable Author of the Poems under the of DELLA CRUSCA. ACROSS the vaft Atlantic tide,Down Apalachias graffy fide,What echoing founds the foul becruile, C? OS And lend the lip of grief & fmile !Tis Della Cruscas heavnly fong,Which floats the weftern fhores along,Breathing as fweet, as foft a firain,As kindnefs to the ear of pain,Splendid as noon, as morning clear,And chafte as evnings pearly tear;Where cold defpair in muiic flows,While all the fire of genius glows* Still thy enchanting powrs difplay,Still charm me with the magic lay !The Mufes all thy foul infpire,Apollo tunes thy matchlefs lyre !O ftrike the luftral firing again,And oer Columbia waft the ftrain. Ah ! would to light my clouded days,One ray from thy unequalld blaze,Might thro my darkning fortunes fhine,And grace me with a note like thine !But no, bright bard, for thee aloneThe Mufes weave the laurel crown :Neer can the timid,plaintive dove,Soar with the dau
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