d to be at rest
But still unwilling roams.

"In dreams she asked the youth again:
'Pray tell where I shall live,
And what form now must I assume
To most enjoyment give?'
He could not decide, so she was told
For herself 'twere best to choose.
The tribe might through their ignorance
Her heavenly wisdom lose.

"On the mountains first in the pure white rose
She dwelt; but all unseen
By the tribe she loved: so next she went
To be the prairie's queen.
She trembled with fear, with ceaseless dread,
At the hoof of the buffalo;
For safety then a rocky cliff
She sought and glanced below.

"'I know where I will live,' she said,
'Where glides the swift canoe
Of the race I most admire, and where,
Dear children, always you
My playmates can be. I will kiss your cheeks
As you slumber by the lake.
Here with you all, my best beloved,
My home I will ever make.'

"These words she spoke and alighted soon
On the water's limpid breast.
Looked down at her image reflected there,
At last she was at rest.

[Illustration: "THESE WORDS SHE SPAKE AND ALIGHTED SOON ON THE WATERS'
LIMPID BREAST."]

In the morning sun, as pure as heaven,
A thousand lilies basked;
For Wah-be-gwan-nee, water lily,
The Indian children asked.

"In the southern sky this bright star lived;
Her brethren can be seen
Far off in the cold North, hunting the bear:
Meanwhile, with ardor keen,
Her sisters watch from East and West,
And here, an exile lone,
She sees her heavenly kindred fair
In the home that was her own.

"My children, when the lilies pure
You pluck from the placid lake,
Hold them toward heaven, their rightful home,
Abandoned for your sake.
So they may be happy here on earth
As any sister star
That, stationed in the summer sky,
Gleams brightly from afar."

IDA SEXTON SEARLS.

The Trailing Arbutus.

EPIGAEA REPENS.

In the vast, primeval forest, unremembered moons ago,
When the streams were dumb and palsied, all the earth was white with snow,
When the eerie wind went chasing evil spirits through the wood,
'Neath the gaunt and leafless tree-tops, an old Indian teepee stood.
In it lived an old man only, with white locks and flowing beard,
Clad in furs from head to foot-sole, like one to the north-land reared:

Weakly his scant fire resisted the dread storm-fiend's icy breath,
And its deep, portentous rumblings spoke of swift approaching death.
Crouching there,