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

168 THE LEAGUE OF THE IROQUOIS.
Now lie in his sorrow cries
Till the woods with sorrow wake,
On the night-wind wails and sighs
As his loving heart would break ;
Till the lowly listening sea
Answers from its farther shore :
"Woe is me !
Oh, woe is me !
"
Woe is me forevermore ! !
Other thoughts more poignant stir
In his heart that wanders prone,
Pierced and bleeding, unto her,
Her, the mother, waiting lone
In the Yong-we's home and place ;
Now with tearful eyes and red,
Soon, alas to wail and cry
!
For her precious darling dead.
Up and down the purple shore
Wanders dark the stricken chief;
In his sorrow sorrowing more
For her trouble, pain and grief
:
In the wigwam left behind,
Mourning for her parted child,
She will never comfort find
For her anguish fierce and wild.