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

WINONA. 249
How beauteous shone thy maiden fame,
How beauteous where thy footsteps stood,
When, sorrowing in thy maiden blame,
Thou trembledst o'er the threatening flood !
What yearnings vain thy heart possessed
When love's sweet morning-dream decayed ;
No darlings for the woman's breast,
No lovelight for the lonely maid !
And oh, what anguish over all
What grief the aching breast enfolds,
When one so loved and beautiful
Goes sorrowing to the Land of Souls !
But yet metbinks I hear the cry
From many and many a breaking heart :
"Alas ! alas !
oh, would that I
Had chose the Indian Maiden's part !"