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

THE BRIDAL. 115
On her, the forest's lowly maid,
Robed on with every virgin grace,
Whose proudest wish had never strayed
Beyond the Yong-we's home and place,
How passing fair love's mantle shone
;
Love bears the true enchanter's wand,
And beauty wrought of love alone
Is beauty of the Morning Land.
Calm lit
thy bridal, dawning bright ;
Thy heart no baser feeling moved ;
And Nature smiled her dear delight,
And Oway-neo glad approved
The chastened nuptial tie and band
Of hearts by simple love allied,
When thou, nor unadorned, didst stand
The noble Hayo-went-ha's bride.
More tender woke the woman's tone,
While like the morning's ruby rise
A radiant splendor round thee shone
Looked beauteous from thy starry eyes,
O'er cheek and breast emmaiitled warm ;
When thou, in all thy maiden charms,
Didst yield thy lovely maiden form
To Hayo-went-ha's manly arms.
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