CHICOMICO.
29
Who dares its magic calm to break?
"Tis Montonoc! his piercing eye
Is raised to where the western hill
Rears its broad forehedad to the sky,
Battling the whirlwind's fury still.
"Tis Montonoc! his piercing eye
Is raised to where the western hill
Rears its broad forehedad to the sky,
Battling the whirlwind's fury still.
'Twas Montonoc, and with him there
Was that strange form, with golden hair!
Wrapped in the self-same garb, as when,
Surrounded by those savage men,
The stranger had, with Montonoc,
Been led before the blazing stake!
Swift, swift the light skiff forward flew,
Till it had crossed the waters blue;
Both leaped like lightning to the land,
And left the skiff upon the strand;
Far 'mid the forest then they fled,
And mingled with its dark brown shade.
Was that strange form, with golden hair!
Wrapped in the self-same garb, as when,
Surrounded by those savage men,
The stranger had, with Montonoc,
Been led before the blazing stake!
Swift, swift the light skiff forward flew,
Till it had crossed the waters blue;
Both leaped like lightning to the land,
And left the skiff upon the strand;
Far 'mid the forest then they fled,
And mingled with its dark brown shade.
The oak's broad arms in the breeze were creaking,
The bird of the gloomy brow was shrieking,
When a note on the night-wind was wafted along,
A note of the dead Chieftain's funeral song.
A form was seen wandering in frantic woe,
'Twas the maniac daughter of Hillis-ad-joe!
Her dark hair was borne on the night-wind afar,
And she sung the wild dirge of the Blood-hound of War!
She ceased when she came near the breeze-ruffled lake;
She ceased—was't the wind sighing o'er the long brake?
The bird of the gloomy brow was shrieking,
When a note on the night-wind was wafted along,
A note of the dead Chieftain's funeral song.
A form was seen wandering in frantic woe,
'Twas the maniac daughter of Hillis-ad-joe!
Her dark hair was borne on the night-wind afar,
And she sung the wild dirge of the Blood-hound of War!
She ceased when she came near the breeze-ruffled lake;
She ceased—was't the wind sighing o'er the long brake?
