The DEATH SONG OF THE CHEROKEE INDIAN

 Words by Anne Hunter (1742-1821), printed London, 1784.

"The idea of this ballad was suggested several years ago 
by hearing a gentleman, who had resided several years in 
America amongst the tribe or nation called the Cherokees, 
sing a wild air, which he assured me it was customary for 
those people to chaunt with a barbarous jargon, implying 
contempt for their enemies in the moments of torture or 
death.  I have endeavoured to give something of the 
characteristic spirit and sentiment of those brave savages. 
We look upon the fierce and stubborn courage of the dying 
indian with a mixture of respect, pity, and horror; and it 
is to those sensations excited in the mind of the reader, 
that the Death Song must owe its effect." (Hunter, Poems)

 Tune: MORALITY, The Sacred Harp, page 136.


 The sun sets at night and the stars shun the day,
 But glory remains when the light fades away.
 Begin, ye tormentors, your threats are in vain,
 For the son of Alknomook shall never complain.

 Remember the arrows he shot from his bow;
 Remember your chiefs by his hatchet laid low;
 Why so slow? do you wait till I shrink from my pain?
 No! the son of Alknomook shall never complain.

 Remember the wood where in ambush we lay,
 And the scalps which we bore from your nation away;
 Now the flame rises fast, you exult in my pain,
 But the son of Alknomook shall never complain.

 I'll go to the land where my father is gone;
 His ghost shall rejoice in the fame of his son;
 Death comes like a friend to relieve me from pain;
 And thy son, O Alknomook, has scorn'd to complain.