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

110 THE LEAGUE OF THE IROQUOIS.
Again she broods her little care
And voices so her bosom-pain,
Such pain as maiden bosoms bear :
u Oh !
will that Chee-maun come again,
That Chee-maun from the fairer shore ?
Or ever must I lonely wait ?
Will Hayo-went-ha come no more
Or is he good as he is great ? "
" Blest Oway-neo high above,
Bless her, the lowly maiden, pray ;
Nor her alone keep in thy love,
Keep him, the loved one far away." 35
And ever as the morning wore,
While to her willing task she bent,
To Hayo-went-ha more and more
Her heart in tender yearnings went.
But when beyond the pebbly marge
Again, with love delighted eyes,
She saw afar that mystic barge,
Saw Hayo-went-ha great and wise ,
Forgetting all love's care and smart,
What rare delights her bosom swayed
!
What rapture thrilled that gentle heart -
Fell like a mantle on the maid !