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

THE BRIDAL.
Ill
And if beside the waiting sea
Her pulse a deeper joy confessed
To mark that Chee-maun speeding free,
Oh ! how divine a peace and rest
The maiden bosom owned, when near
She saw him by the wigwam stand ;
With him the mat again to share,
And clasp again that dearer hand.
With something of the olden fire
Of ONGUE HONWE'S lofty mood,
Uprose the maiden's aged sire
To friendly greet him where he stood ;
To make for Hayo-went-ha free
The wigwam's fairest couch and rest ;
With pipe and meat and courtesy
Give welcome to his noble guest.
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And charming
all the twilight shade,
Of deeds of other days they tell ;
Of hunter chase o'er hill and glade,
Of braves that in the battle fell ;
And all the home-delighting tales,
Till by some saddened memory crossed,
Unfinished, late the story fails,
Still musing on the loved and lost.