INDIAN MAIDEN'S LAMENT.
Where the rushing, foaming billows Of a noble river glide,With the gently swaying willows Flinging shadows o'er its tide;
By its darkly-gleaming water, On the lovely flow'r-decked shore,Sat an Indian chieftain's daughter Mourning for the days of yore,—
For the days when through the wildwood, Through the forest, and the glade,She had wandered in her childhood Unmolested, unafraid;
When the red man down the river Floated in his light canoe;With his arrows and his quiver Hunted the dark forest through.
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