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

THE BRIDAL. 113
Incurious of each costly braid,
The aged Chieftain from his mat
Put by his pipe, looked on the maid
And lonely musing, silent sat ;
37
As he her heart would question so,
Or through the rising niist of tears
Far-looking into eyes that glow
And brighten from the vanished years.
u Take her, Hayo-went-ha
! she
Is all thine own," bespoke her sire ;
" I scorn not gifts like thine to me,
But love is more than vain desire.
take her ! she with thee will go ;
And wifely-wise her heart shall bear
The name and fame thou dost bestow,
And worthy thou of bride so fair."
What bliss her lowly toiling lent
Through all the beauteous autumn days ;
For not alone the maiden went
To joyous pluck the ruddy Maize.
How quick and strong the hands to dare,
When love their labor more endears ;
For Hayo-went-ha, he would bear
The burden of the ripened ears. 38