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The Occom Circle Project is a digital edition of letters from and to Samson Occom (1727-1792), with other of his works. The documents in question are all housed in Dartmouth College's Rauner Special Collections Library. Occom was a Mohegan Indian, intertribal leader, public intellectual, and the most important Indian writer in North America in the 18th century.
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Most worthy Sir, with modesty
I crave the honour of your listening Ear,
To my weak
Attempts a Subject lofty and sublime:
Pardon the
Whilst I would try to celebrate the
Of your grand Scheme your great and noble Plan,
Well worthy of the
Sure bounteous Heaven
With fervent Love and pity to Mankind,
With generous
Concern
And
The dismal Lot of
Who under Satans Tyranny
Bow to his Sceptre tremble at his nod,
Thus Adams tawny Sons you saw
You d
From hells black Tyrant and their piteous
And made the subjects of triumphant Grace.
The Devil you beheld with
stern Command,
That roaring Monster hideous
Led Millions of
But God propitious
A glorious Scheme whereby he might deprive,
Satan of
all his
His hellish Kingdom and infernal Crown.
The Plan first
laid was small in infant state
The means were slender
But the great God beholding from the Skies
His mighty Power becomes its strong
Defence.
By Day he guards it and by night protects,
It
Its fame illustrious sounds to foreign
Lands.
The Good, and
And, Gold and Silver to its help afford,
Their
pious hearts unite and all combine,
To
As when the
and strives to bear it
The neighbouring Train view from their humble Dome,
Run to his help and bring the Burden home.
So here your Friends with
behold your great and glorious
with Joy afford it all the
d
Old Satan saw and was with motive d
The sed
d
Fearing his
He marshals all his black infernal
His Servants all with execrable Lies
Reproach the Author and his
Mocking revile him with malicious Taunts,
"Ay, Gold he covets Money's
all he wants,
"d
"He is a Priest, they all have
itching Palms,
"Their
"So, blindly lead the blind into the
Ditch.
"What will he christianize this savage Brood?
"He'd sooner much make
Devils Sa
"What give him Money? I'll not give a
groat,
"I'd rather give him Powder Guns and
"I'd rather ravage all their B barbarous plains,
"And cut
their throats, and
But God beholds old Satan and his Tools,
Laughs at their Rage, their
Envy ridicules:
And binds the Devil in his iron Chains
Satan is baff
The glorious Plan is wafted
Its fame
Her Sons rejoice and and all her Daughters smile
Her
The heavenly Scheme the glorious
Great
Freely contributes with a liberal hand
Nor thinks it far
beneath his Dignity
To look upon it with propitious Eye
While Peers and
Orphans,
All but the Devil and his Imps combine
To
They
The noble Founder shares the second
And now great Sir review the small foundation,
Which
And by your Labours, d
NNo doubt your Soul rejoices in the Lord
And calmly
That he'll one day
Affect the End to which you
The great s
d
d
In spite of hell, and all infernal Arms,
your
As
ponderous Rocks amidst the foaming sea
Break the Loud Billows when the Ocean
raves,
And Scorns the
Now d
Gladden our hearts and
The Glorious Sun of
His genial
Begins
of savage Lands, and bow their Stubborn hearts
To
the ie&slong;i&slong;iahs
Scatters the Gloom,
and
Shall not the gracious
And the
When
Shall the
Rule
Exalt his Saints his Foes in wrath devour.
Hail happy Day by
When heathen Nations shall with Joy behold
Where the tall groves stand towering to the Skies
When barren
Afford a peaceful
When Rocks shall triumph and the Mountains sing
The Flood
rejoice and vales with
As sang
who
"When Lambs with wolves shall graze the verdant Mead
"And Boys
on
"The Steer, and
"And
In lofty
Where Birds of prey build, up their artful
Lilies shall spring;
And plenteous
Tall Ranks of Corn shall meet our wondering
Eyes,
and fill our Joyful hearts with new
Magnific Temples Sacred to our God
adorn the Place where
Soon may the Lord to this
and joy and
May Grace and Glory spread from shore to shore
and savage barbarous yells be heard no more
ye tawny Mortals
Your dismal Powwows and your cruel Sports.
your Arrows break, your weapons
yield to his Sceptre, and his Laws approve,
Give over all your
necromantic Schemes
Fell Rage, and Malice from your Minds
In heavenly Anthems
His tottering throne shall tumble to the Ground
His ruined Kingdom with
Destruction
Shall force him with disgrace to quit the
Gods glorious Truth and Grace their Light
and fill your Souls with bright
And tune your Heart to sing eternal
Such heart reviving Times such
Great Sir, will
Now may that God who rules
Attend propitious to your ardent
Grant you the fervent
Extend his Truth divine from Pole to pole.
And when Cold
Death shall
And your d
May Heaven receive you with this
Salutation,
Come favourite Soul
With never
And
There may you see throned in eternal Light,
Each soul that by your
Means d
of Satan and his black infernal Race,
And
Sparkle like Stars in your eternal Crown.