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

ft
4 THE LEAGUE OF THE IROQVOIS.
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I thread the forest lone.
I wait
Where once your sheltering wigwams stood,
Bewailing your untimely fate,
My People of the wild and wood.
No more as in the olden days
Shall here your hunter -bow be bent,
Where, learned in nature's simple ways,
You dwelt in lowly life content.
fallen Braves !
forevermore
Yon crystal floods that leap and toss,
Shall wail along their saddened shore,
so love's olden loss.
Deploring
While rolling suns shall burn and glow,
The seasons crown the waiting years,
The fairest Summer's cheek shall show
Some grief -betoken ing trace of tears.
No pilgrim
wind that homeless sings
But murmurs of departed braves ;
No zephyr o'er the wild that wings
But lingers by forgotten graves.
Soft through the twilight's silver sheen,
Methinks the glimmering stars above
Far
shining in the blue serene,
Bend low with pitying eyes of love.