THE CHIEFTAIN'S DAUGHTER.
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"Think ye," she cried, "my tribe I will betray?There's naught could tempt me to so base a deed!Besides, a solemn promise I should break.The love of friends may stronger be than loveOf life itself, but in the noble soulDwells something stronger still than either these.It is the love of right, that biddeth itStand firm to truth, and leave all else to God!"She ceased, and for awhile her foes spoke not.Consulting long, at last one said to her: "Chieftain's daughter of lofty soul, Back to thy distant home again! Thou art free, though thy father die! "Then with him I will die!" cried Sunny-Eye.But, as she spoke, she met her father's gaze;A noble pride and sorrow mingled there.In tones of grief, yet firmness, then he said: "Far off, Sunny-Eye, in the forest dim, Thy mother will stand by the wigwam door, Will list for the sound of the chieftain's tread, The clear, merry laugh of her Sunny-Eye. The tread of the chieftain she'll hear no more! Wilt leave her alone in the forest dim, With none there to lighten her daily cares, Or weep with her more by the little graves? If not for thine own, for thy mother's sake, O Sunny-Eye, hasten, oh, hasten home!"
