The Poetical Works of Mrs. Leprohon Part 4

TOLONGA, Minahita's Father.

DOLBREKA, Indian Chief.

I.

_Chorus._

In summer's rare beauty the earth is arrayed, Gay flowers are blooming on hill-side and glade, Embalming the air with sweet subtle perfume, Enriching the earth with their beautiful bloom; The moss, like green velvet, yields soft 'neath the tread, The forest trees wave in luxuriance o'er head, Whilst fresh dawning beauties of sky, wood and plain, Proclaim that fair summer is with us again.

Let the choice, then, be made of the thrice-favored one Whom Niagara's Spirit will soon call his own!

At morn, when the sun wakes refulgent on high In billows of gold, hooding earth, sea and sky, How glorious the music that welcomes his rays, One loud choral song of rejoicing and praise: The clear notes of birds and the soft rustling breeze The murmur of waters, the sighing of trees, And the thousand sweet voices, so tender and gay, That haunt our old woods through the bright summer day.

Let the choice, then, be made of the thrice-favored one Whom Niagara's Spirit will soon call his own!

DOLBREKA.

Ah! yes, the time and hour have come To choose a fitting bride For that Spirit who from his wat'ry home, Speaks forth in might and pride; Whilst the zephyrs toy with his sapphire waves, He would bear her down to his crystal caves.

Seek the woods for buds to deck her brow; And offerings must she bring, Ripe blooming fruits and fragrant bough, As gifts for the River King-- Gifts of earth's loveliest things, while she, 'Mid our maidens fair, must the fairest be!

II.

OREIKA.

The Sachems all have spoken, and the lot has fallen on one As fair as any wild rose that blossoms 'neath the sun, Her eyes, like starlit waters, are liquid, soft and clear; Her voice like sweetest song-bird's in the springtime of the year; No merry fawn that lightly springs from forest tree to tree Hath form so light and graceful, or footstep half as free;

Like plumage of the raven is her heavy silken hair, Which she binds with scarlet blossoms--with strings of wampum rare; And the crimson hue that flushes her soft though dusky cheek Is like the sunbeam's parting blush upon the mountain peak.

O, never since Niagara first thundered down in pride Had the Spirit of its waters so beautiful a bride!

_Chorus of Indian Women._

Ah, Minahita! sister fair, What lot with thine can now compare?

'Mid all the daughters of our race Peerless in beauty and in grace.

More blest than if in wifehood's pride Thou stood'st at some young warrior's side, Or with fair children round thy knee Didst crown thy young maternity!

III.

MINAHITA.

My heart is throbbing with solemn joy, May no earthly thoughts that bliss alloy, By Sachems chosen and tribesmen all-- I gladly lead, and obey the call!

TOLONGA.

Ah, spoken well, my daughter, and worthy of thy sires, Who've ever held an honored place around our council fires!

My foot treads earth more proudly, my heart beats quick and high, To know that, like a Sachem's child, my daughter goes to die!

Though Mamtou denied me a son to glad mine age, To follow in the warpath when our foes fierce combat wage.

I offer him, with grateful heart, thanksgiving deep and warm That he has placed a warrior's heart within thy fragile form.

_Aria._

Just sixteen spring-tides hast thou seen Beneath the forest shade, And ever sweet and mild of mien, Like sunbeam hast thou played Around my widowed home and heart-- Yet thou and I must quickly part.

As firmly as the towering oak, Deep rooted in the earth, Can brave the storm and thunder stroke, So, even from thy birth, Deep love for thee hath held my heart, And yet, ungrieving, must we part.

And closely as the ivy clings Around some forest tree, Till from its glossy em'rald rings, No bough or limb is free, So art thou twined around my heart, And yet, rejoicing, must we part!

IV.

OREIKA.

Alas, my sister, do not chide That thoughts of grief, instead of pride, Within my heart lie deep; Fain would I speak with mien elate Of thy predestined glorious fate, And yet I can but weep.

When come the short'ning Autumn days, While gathering in the golden maize, I'll miss thy tender voice, And when our merry maidens say: "Oreika, join us in our play,"

How can I then rejoice?

And, oh! I will not grieve alone, For when another moon has flown, And Osseo will return, Hopeful, to seek thee for his bride, How deeply will his heart be tried When he thy fate shall learn!

MINAHITA.

Enough, my sister, wouldst make me sad, When my smile should be bright and my heart be glad?

You know 'tis an honor to sire and race, And to shrink from my lot would bring dire disgrace.

For no earthly love must I weakly pine, I yield to a suitor of rank divine.

To my girlhood's love must I say farewell-- To the dreams that were sweeter than words can tell!

The chill embrace of the waters cold, Clasping my form in their viewless hold, Laving my brow in their terrible play, Tangling my locks with their glittering spray, Freezing my warm blood, stifling my breath, With awful kisses that bring but death,-- To such endearments I now must go Where my Spirit bridegroom dwells below.

OREIKA.

'Tis fearful, alas! and must it be?

MINAHITA.

What would'st thou?

OREIKA.

Flee, oh quickly flee!

Through secret paths seek Osseo's side, Who will gladly welcome and shield his bride; To far-off lands thou with him canst fly, In mutual love to live and die!

MINAHITA.

Thou forgettest, my sister! An Indian maid Not of death, but dishonor, should be afraid.

Thou did'st couple love with dear Osseo's name, But love would be short-lived if joined with shame!

My father bowed 'neath dark disgrace, My name a bye-word to all my race, I would find no joy in my rescued life, Dogged by remorse and inward strife, Till, hiding myself from all friendly ken, I should die, despised by both G.o.ds and men.

No, sister, better an early grave In yon lone dell where the pine-trees wave; Better a fiery death at the stake, While foes fierce sport of the captive make, With cruelest tortures that man can frame,-- Thrice better, than life with dishonored name!

V.