In the shade of the pine, or the cypress wood,
If the little heart that so gently heaves
Is lightly pressing a bed of leaves;
Tell me, maiden, by thy voice
Bid thy lover's heart rejoice;
Ope on him thy starry eyes;
Let him clasp thee in his arms,
Press thy ripe, red lips to his.
Come, my fair Pequida, come!"

No answer meets the warrior's ears,
But glimmering o'er the lake appears
A solitary, twinkling light--
It seems a fire-fly lamp;
It moves, with motion quick and strange,
Over the broad lake's breast.
The lover sprung to his light canoe,
And swiftly followed the meteor spark,
But the winds were high, and the clouds were dark,
He could not find the maid,
Nor near the glittering lamp.

He went to his father's lodge,
And laid him on the earth,
Calmly laid him down.
Words he spoke to none,
Looks bestow'd on none.
They brought him food--he would not eat--
They brought him drink--he would not drink--
They brought him a spear and a bow,
And a club, and an arrowy sheaf,
And shouted the cry of war,
And prais'd him, and nam'd him a Chief,
And told how the treacherous Nanticokes
Had slain three Braves of the Roanokes;
That a man of the tribe who never ran
Had vow'd to war on the Red Oak's son--
But he show'd no signs of wrath;
His thoughts were abroad in another path.

Sudden he sprung to his feet,
Like an arrow impell'd by a vigorous arm.
"You have dug her grave," said he,
"In a spot too cold and damp,
All too cold and damp,
For a soul so warm and true.
Where, think ye, her soul has gone?
Gone to the Lake of the Dismal Swamp,
Where all night long by a fire-fly lamp
She paddles her White Canoe.
And thither I will go!"
And with that he took his quiver and bow,
And bade them all adieu.

And the youth returned no more;
And the maiden returned no more;
Alive none saw them more;
But oft their spirits are seen
By him who sleeps in that swamp.
When the night's dim lamps are veil'd,
And the Hunter's Star is hid,
And the moon has shut her lid,
And the she-wolf stirs the brake,
And the bitterns start by tens,
And the slender junipers shake
With the weight of the nimble bear,
And the pool resounds with the cayman's plash,
And the owl sings out of the bough