THE CHIEFTAIN'S DAUGHTER.
Far, far away, within a forest dim,There dwelt, in times long past, an Indian tribe.Within those forest depths, beside a streamWhose rushing waters wild, sweet music made,The wigwam of the Indian chieftain stood;And all the tribe who round him dwelt reveredThis chieftain brave,—they called him Thunder-Cloud. One only daughter had this chieftain brave,Unlike the other maidens of her tribe:They loved the war-dance and the hunting-song;But e'en from childhood days her soul had seemedTo hold communion sweet with higher things.No books had Sunny-Eye; but nature spreadIts glorious pages to her opening soul:Birds, flowers, rocks, streams, and distant mountains filledHer soul sometimes with rapture and delight,Sometimes with reverence deep. or quiet joy. But all the glories that the day revealedWithin her soul wrought no such mighty spellAs that which rested there when oft she stood,In night's calm hour, and with her parents gazed
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