 | Miscellaneous poems (1861) |  |
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LEGENDARY FRAGMENT.
“Maiden, as bright as the Hunter's star,
When it shines in its cloudless home afar;
Dove of the forest, whose timorous eyes
Are tender as April's tearful skies;
Whose hand is as small as the red oak leaf,
Whose foot as the lark's spread wing is brief;
Whose step is the step of the antelope's child,
As it bounds o'er the prairie, gracefully wild;
Whose voice is as soft as a rill in the moon,
Or the brooklet's flow at the hour of noon;—
Whither, O maiden! goest thou now,
With the drooping form, and thy bashful brow?”
When it shines in its cloudless home afar;
Dove of the forest, whose timorous eyes
Are tender as April's tearful skies;
Whose hand is as small as the red oak leaf,
Whose foot as the lark's spread wing is brief;
Whose step is the step of the antelope's child,
As it bounds o'er the prairie, gracefully wild;
Whose voice is as soft as a rill in the moon,
Or the brooklet's flow at the hour of noon;—
Whither, O maiden! goest thou now,
With the drooping form, and thy bashful brow?”
“I go to the Idols this springtide morn,
That my loving heart may be less forlorn;
I go to lay down the gifts of my Brave,
Whom they from all danger can shield and save:
The song-sparrow's crest I take with me,
For it sang to us both from the forest tree;
And the spirit-bird's tail, so rich and rare,
And the shells that were dyed in the sunset fair,
And the beads that he brought from a far-off land,
And the skin of the lynx that fell by his hand,
Before the mocassins bedecked his feet,
Ere he murmured to me his love-tale sweet.
I go to ask them to shield his heart
Against the Maha and his poisonous dart;
To give to his arm true vigour and aim,
To his feet the speed of the prairie-flame;
To make his voice like the thunder-boom,
When the hills are clothed with a lurid gloom:
And when there is Maha blood on the track,
And a cluster of Pawnee scalps at his back,
To let him return to my longing breast,
That he may have solace, and joy, and rest,
While I wipe the sweat from his weary brow,
And love him as deeply as I do now:—
The Idols, man, woman, and dog of stone,
That stand on the willow-bank, wildly alone.”
That my loving heart may be less forlorn;
I go to lay down the gifts of my Brave,
Whom they from all danger can shield and save:
The song-sparrow's crest I take with me,
For it sang to us both from the forest tree;
And the spirit-bird's tail, so rich and rare,
And the shells that were dyed in the sunset fair,
And the beads that he brought from a far-off land,
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Before the mocassins bedecked his feet,
Ere he murmured to me his love-tale sweet.
I go to ask them to shield his heart
Against the Maha and his poisonous dart;
To give to his arm true vigour and aim,
To his feet the speed of the prairie-flame;
To make his voice like the thunder-boom,
When the hills are clothed with a lurid gloom:
And when there is Maha blood on the track,
And a cluster of Pawnee scalps at his back,
To let him return to my longing breast,
That he may have solace, and joy, and rest,
While I wipe the sweat from his weary brow,
And love him as deeply as I do now:—
The Idols, man, woman, and dog of stone,
That stand on the willow-bank, wildly alone.”
| Miscellaneous poems (1861) | |