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Pocahontas

Rating: 2.4

Wearied arm and broken sword
Wage in vain the desperate fight:
Round him press a countless horde,
He is but a single knight.
Hark! a cry of triumph shrill
Through the wilderness resounds,
As, with twenty bleeding wounds,
Sinks the warrior, fighting still.

Now they heap the fatal pyre,

And the torch of death they light:
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COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Douglas 13 August 2019

I memorized this poem in the 5th grade.

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sometihy 18 May 2018

you need to put qoutations that people can understand

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