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

68 THE LEAGUE OF THE IROQUOIS.
As we feel the coming sorrow
Deepen down,
Mark with tears the boding shadow
Fateful frown,
Haply so a joy may brighten
Far away,
Like the faint auroral shining
Of the yet unrisen day.
And is this exultant, throbbing,
Glad unrest,
All this tumult new of passion
In my breast,
The faint motions of a rapture
Yet unborn ?
But the dawn with eagle-pinion
That so swift outruns the morn ?
He, Kee-way-din, softly whispers,
Wandering free,
"Sweet the maid Nyah-tah-wanta'
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Unto me ;
And the charming maid to morrow
Will I see.
Well, if she be Hayo-went-ha's ;
If she be not
let it be.