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

244: WINONA.
"
Though bravest of the braves is he,
And I of all the maidens least,
His bride and wife I can not be,
So do not bid the marriage feast.
I low will rest beside the dead,
Or lonely wander, old and gray ;
But never will Winona wed
Till love shall light her wedding-day."
Now flickers dim the camp-fire light ;
The tawny braves that hideous made
With whoop and dance the falling night.
Lie slumbering in the dusky shade.
A deeper gloom the midnight wears ;
Till silence in that fading glow
Hangs like some sable wing that bears
The presage of on-coming woe.
From out the forest dim and faint,
From off the waters glooming nigh,
Comes up the Wa-won-ais-se's plaint,
The Wa-be-wa-wa's clang and cry ;
And many a nightbird lonely calls,
While sweeter than the morning-rise
The dew of sleep that softly falls
But not on anguish-burdened eyes.