"
O he is the lord of my breast!
With him is my lodge and my love!_

She stops! She turns with sudden start,
With troubled eyes and beating heart,
To the frowning bluffs, where warlike cries
And sound of savage revel rise.
The warriors of her tribe are there,
All dancing in the firelight glare.
Their spears with reeking scalps are clad,
Their thoughts are blood, their brains are mad;
Each yelling brave now only knows
Fierce hatred for his ancient foes.
They boast of all their deeds of might,
Of secret slaughter, deadly fight,
And woe to him who comes to meet
The lonely maid, Wenonah sweet,
If they his paddle's dip shall hear
Or after learn his presence near.
When their wild revel, to her fright,
Rose wilder with the fall of night,
She stole away and gained this place
To see again her lover's face.
She gazes on the distant shore,
But all is quiet as before.
Again she sings, her flute-like tones
So low that were the very stones
On which she rests her feet possessed
With sense to hear, what she confessed
In tuneful cadence would be lost
To them, for well she knows the cost
For him who loves her, if her thought
Be told aloud, and so there naught
Breaks on the air but melody.
If sung in words, her song would be:

_My love is strong, my love is brave,
His heart is warm and true;
He soon will come across the wave
And bear me in his light canoe,
To be his queen and slave._

_To me he bowed his eagle plume,
He tamed his eagle eye,
And vowed his love would life consume
If I refused with him to fly,
His teepee to illume.

O come, my chief! I watch--I wait!
I give up all for thee;
If thou wilt have an alien mate,
Wenonah longs that one to be,
That she may share thy fate.

Come quickly, love, but make no sound,
My people are thy foes,
If thou shouldst here by them be found
A warrior's death thy life would close,
Thy soul be skyward bound.

What then would poor Wenonah do
If she were left alone?
She scarce would see the hand that slew
Ere she would raise her death-chant tone,
And with thee perish too!_

She scans the echoing cliff once more,
Then turns to view the farther shore,
And bending low she strives to hear
Some sound to tell her he is near.
O'er all there seems to fall a hush
As tender as her cheek's warm blush.
So firmly rooted to the spot--
As if she had all things forgot--
She looks like some wild, charm-bound elf,
As lifeless as the moon itself.
But no! the par