The league of the Iroquois and other legends : from the Indian muse

82 THE LEAGUE OF THE IEOQUOIS.
gentle Heart !
though unconfessed,
By purest maiden passion stirred,
How had it charmed that yearning breast -
The little song that late I heard !
That eye had lit more softly warm,
That cheek had owned a deeper glow,
That beauteous, lithesome maiden form
Had trembled like the frightened roe.
Nor is there maid, methinks, so cold,
If she should know at dawning light,
That ere Wo-ne-da's silver fold
Shall press Yo-non-to's breast to-night,
Some wooer great would come to woo,
That she, perchance, would be his bride,
But would her bosom nutter too
Her glowing cheek blush, crimson dyed.