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

34 THE LEAGUE OF THE IROQUOIS.
Swift over crystal seas he sped,
Where thick is strewn the rocky floor
With bones of all the countless dead
That, passing, sank to rise no more ;
Though threatening far the billows toss,
His Chee-maun smoothes each angry wave ;
The good alone can safely cross
The floods that mortals all must brave. 7
Still on till many a land he saw
With seas and mountains looming large ;
While many a swarthy brave in awe
Gazed wondering on that fleeting barge ;
And still away
it tireless bore
On stormy waves or peaceful deeps,
Till light it pressed the pebbly shore
Where Onondaga tranquil sleeps.
Mild shone the kindling summer sun,
Fell soft the vernal breezes bland,
The tide in silver ripples run
Low murmured, lapsing on the sand ;
More radiant afar unrolled
The widening sea with billowy crest,
As shimmering in the sunset gold,
Like rubies flashed each dimpled crest.