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

VII
NYAH-TAH-WANTA.
NYAH-TAH-WANTA
fair and good
Was she, the warrior-chieftain's child ;
And never maiden of the wood
Did brighten more the forest wild ;
None bear the charms more modestly
Of sweetly-budding womanhood,
Nor worthier of love than she,
Child of the bold, heroic blood.
As one bereft when years were few,
And taught a widowed knee to climb,
She thoughtful-wise and pensive grew,
As shadow pf a sorrow-time
From out the unremembered years,
Or wraith of love's forgotten kiss,
Still burdened with unfallen tears
Those lids of liquid tenderness.