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

u I am an aged hemlock," said ;
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Who bowed in years, in spirit brave,
u Winds of a hundred winters have
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Fierce whistled through my branches dead.
And pilgrims still their footsteps stay
Bend o'er his dust with tearful eyes ;
" He was the White Man's friend,
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they say,
Or " Here the good Sken-an-do lies. 11
Rise other forms more comely dight
:
More fair than in the olden days
They that I see oh, dear delight
!
In beauty that is passing praise,
In wifely charm or maiden grace,
In snowy kirtle rich arrayed,
They light the Yong-we's home and place,
Make glad the wigwam's mat and shade.
And oft along the glimmering marge
Of wider shores, that faint and glow,
I see again that mystic barge
That mystic Chee-maun come and go ;
More beauteous on the flowing tide,
More fleet is seen to glide and run,
Dance on the billows foaming wide,
No paddle has no need of one.