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

HAYO-WENT-HA'S MOURNING. 169
Hark !
Oh, alas !
in many a sigh and moan,
that he must go
In his Chee-maun all alone
Where Ti-o-to's billows flow !
Evermore to weep and yearn,
To the wigwam's mat and shade
How can he again return
46
Taking not the little maid ?
How the bitter tidings bear ?
Oh, what ill
might her betide,
Seeing Hayo-went-ha there,
But no maiden by his side !
How that dearer heart would ache !
Can he meet that tearful gaze ?
Oh, the tender heart may break-
On., the darkened after-days
!
If to go is sorest grief,
Not to go
it deepens more ;
Who can give her pain relief,
Waiting on that troubled shore ?
Watching through the lonely day
Through the lonely night in vain,
For the loved ones far away,
She will never see again.