I SAID ; " O ancient tree, I have made my home near thee,
And claim thee for a friend, as well as neighbor,
Till weary heart and brain shall find surcease of pain,
When God releases me from life and labor.
" Thou seemest staunch and whole in root, heart, branch and bole.
Yet thou hast lived unknown, unnumbered ages, —
And curious things, I ween, thy dryad's eyes have seen,
That are not written in historic pages.
" And, on these pleasant eves, I hear thy bright, young leaves
Whispering, confidingly, to one another,
And deem they could unfold tales that no lip has told,
Tales from the memory of their fine, old mother.
" Tell me a legend, pray, of some forgotten day:
A strange romance, a quaint, unwritten story
Of some fair Indian maid wooed and won beneath thy shade,
By some tall, tawny brave, in painted glory. "
Then, whence I could not tell, a murmur rose and fell,
In tones too low and liquid to be human;
And then, methought, I heard, like song of some rare bird,
A voice that seemed to say, " Listen, O woman! "
" There was a maiden fair, with midnight eyes and hair,
And crimson broidered tunic on her bosom,
With voice like music sweet, and dainty little feet
That scarcely stirred the odors from a blossom.
" Impulsive, tender, wild, half a woman, half a child,
Crowned with the gentle graces Nature taught her, —
In bearing and in mien, regal as befits a queen,
In sooth, she was a mighty Sachem's daughter.
" She came when rich perfumes, soft lights and fairy glooms
Made rich and redolent, a summer even —
Came when the full-orbed moon, kissing the brow of June,
Went with the stars around the walls of Heaven.
" And, sitting at my feet, she sung so sadly sweet,
That all my leaves bent tenderly above her —
Sung of some bitter strife, that shadowed her young life,
Between her warlike kindred and her lover.
" Then turned to me and smiled like a self-forgetful child,
By some new joy of all its sorrow cheated,
And sung a tender strain with a soft and low refrain,
That all the enamored fauns and fays repeated.
" " Come love, come, the night dews weep;
The fair young flowers are all asleep, —
The bees have borne their treasures home,
The birds are dreaming — come, love, come.
" " Come, love, come; the moon is high,
The camp-fires burn along the sky,
Fire-flies dance in the purple gloom,
And I am lonely — come, love, come.
" " Come love, come — the moonbeams spread
A golden path for thee to tread;
The softest light and fairest bloom
Await and woo thee — come love, come. "
" Then, murmured she, a name, and silently there came,
From out the ambush of some leafy cover,
A chief renowned and brave, of aspect grand and grave,
And tenderly her dark eyes met her lover.
" " O, bird of sweetest song, hast thou waited for me long?
I came with flying feet to thee, Wynona —
On the war-path, in the chase, I have only seen thy face,
Only heard thy tender speaking, dear Wynona.
" " Come love, away with me, I will make a lodge for thee
And cover it with rarest scented cedar,
Bring mosses soft and sweet to spread beneath thy feet,
And, for thy bed, the white down of the eider.
" " With shining beads I'll deck thy polished arms and neck —
I'll dress the finest skins for thine adorning;
Despoil the birds of air of their plumes to crown thy hair,
And waken thee with kisses every morning.
" " I'll hunt the honey bee o'er prairies wild and free,
And bring to thee his hoards of golden treasure,
And by word and action prove that I love thee with a love
That finds in human speech no name, no measure.
" " O, fly with me to-night — fly by this mystic light —
My bark canoe floats idly on the river;
I have store of venison there, nuts and berries ripe and rare,
And a hundred ready arrows in my quiver.
" " O, dearest Osselo, my heart is fain to go,
But, ah, my tribe would follow fast to slay thee;
Wait, yet a little while, my sire's approving smile,
Wait but another moon, O love, I pray thee.
" " Then meet me here again, and by this bitter pain,
And by the love whose tenderness thou knowest —
By all things good and true, by blessed Manitou,
I pledge myself to follow where thou goest.
" " O, silver-throated bird, I take thee at thy word —
Pleading so tender, sweet, brooks no denial,
I will come, as thou hast said, I will come alive or dead,
With love grown stronger, fonder through the trial.
" The chieftain spoke no more, but I saw his heart was sore,
And to Wynona's eyes the big tears started,
As she turned, with quivering face, from her lover's fond embrace,
And to the lodge-fires of her tribe departed.
" That month was long to me, " whispered the old oak tree,
" The moon was longer than her wont in waning,
And when her light was gone, the days went slowly on,
And all my leaves made murmurs of complaining.
" At length the moon rose high in the star-crown of July,
Lighting dim vistas down the forest mazes,
Building, with arch and aisle, a fairy palace pile,
Hung with the tapestry of silver hazes.
" " It is their tryst," I said, and listening heard a tread,
That but a falling leaf could match for lightness,
And then the peerless form of the maiden wild and warm,
Brought back to my lone life beauty and brightness.
" " It is over now, she sighed, " I have conquered, I am free —
No power on earth my soul from his can sever,
And whatever fate betide, I am here to be his bride,
To follow him through life, through death, forever. "
" Then, from a leafy screen of paly gold and green,
The chieftain strode and said: Welcome, Wynona!
There is no star, no moon, no dawn, no sun at noon,
When thou art hidden from mine eyes, Wynona.
" " Now, dearest, thou art mine, by a promise and a sign,
All mine, Wynona, to support and cherish:
And if ever I should prove recreant to thy tender love,
By the red hand of the foeman may I perish.
" " Come — " Not another word from his lips was ever heard:
A murderous arrow, through the forest flying,
Found, with its venomed dart, his brave and noble heart,
And at Wynona's feet the chief fell dying.
" She did not shriek with fear, speak a word, nor shed a tear,
But her midnight eyes grew fixed in stony horror
Upon the cold, dead face, still lighted with the grace
Of that triumphant love, Death crowned with sorrow.
" " He sleeps," at length she said, " Osselo is not dead
The happy birds will waken him with singing;
When morning lights the skies he will open his dear eyes;
He will waken when the lily bells are ringing.
" " Sleep love, sleep — the morn's soft light
Drifts over the purple shores of Night,
Round us the shadows are cool and deep —
Safe on my bosom, sleep love, sleep.
" " Sleep love, sleep — the winds are still;
There is no murmur of fount or rill;
Above us the stars their watch-fires keep, —
Safe on my bosom, sleep love, sleep.
" Fondly, the morning light kissed off the tears of night,
And made all Nature's pulses leap and quiver, —
Gave every leaf a grace, and caught in its embrace
Hill, valley, tangled wold and winding river.
" And still the chieftain's eyes turned to the morning skies
Their deeps of darkness veiled by lids unmoving;
Warm breezes from the South kissed his icy brow and mouth,
But could not win him back to life and loving.
" And still Wynona prest that cold head to her breast,
In half unconscious, half bewildered seeming, —
Still pleaded for one word, from lips that never stirred,
And sadly sung, as if her soul were dreaming.
" " Wake love, wake — the night is gone. —
The stars are hidden in the dawn;
The glad birds sing in bower and brake;
The sun is shining — wake love, wake.
" At length, her father came, caressed her, called her name;
Said: " Come away Wynona, O my daughter!
See, Osselo is dead, his life, his soul has fled
To hunting grounds beyond the silent water.
" Then, from her sad, dark eyes flashed a look of wild surprise,
As if from some long, troubled sleep awaking.
She gave the cold, dead face, a long and fond embrace,
And, by her look, I knew her heart was breaking.
" " If Osselo is dead, let me die too, she said —
There is no might on earth our souls to sever;
By all things true below, by blessed Manitou,
I pledged myself to follow him forever,"
" She said, and quick as thought, her cunning fingers caught
A dainty dagger from its wampum cover,
Turned to the morning sun — one stroke — the deed is done.
" I come, she said, and died beside her lover.
" " Alas!" her father cried, " my silver dove, my pride,
Who now will light the lodge fire for Yoholo?
Who will greet him from the chase with tender, loving face,
And dress the feast of venison for Yoholo?
" " Who will waken him at morn? Who grind the yellow corn?
And broider wampum leggings for Yoholo?
Ah, the medicine-man was right, Maumee's curse has wrought its blight;
There is darkness in the wigwam of Yoholo.
" They dressed the maid with care, and bound her raven hair
With many a shining bead and crimson feather —
Gave the chief his pipe and bow for the journey he must go;
And laid them down to dreamless rest together.
" Then wailing all day long, went the sorrowful death-song,
To waft them safely o'er the silent water —
Brave warriors bowed in grief for their young and noble chief,
And Love lamented for the Sachem's daughter.
" Many an age has come and gone, and still the world moves on,
But of all the living then who knew and loved them,
I only now abide where the lovers lived and died,
And faithfully keep watch and ward above them.
" But when that night in June brings back the full orbed moon
To flood the forest reaches with her glory,
They come without a sound from the happy hunting ground,
And sitting here, rehearse their own sad story. "
And claim thee for a friend, as well as neighbor,
Till weary heart and brain shall find surcease of pain,
When God releases me from life and labor.
" Thou seemest staunch and whole in root, heart, branch and bole.
Yet thou hast lived unknown, unnumbered ages, —
And curious things, I ween, thy dryad's eyes have seen,
That are not written in historic pages.
" And, on these pleasant eves, I hear thy bright, young leaves
Whispering, confidingly, to one another,
And deem they could unfold tales that no lip has told,
Tales from the memory of their fine, old mother.
" Tell me a legend, pray, of some forgotten day:
A strange romance, a quaint, unwritten story
Of some fair Indian maid wooed and won beneath thy shade,
By some tall, tawny brave, in painted glory. "
Then, whence I could not tell, a murmur rose and fell,
In tones too low and liquid to be human;
And then, methought, I heard, like song of some rare bird,
A voice that seemed to say, " Listen, O woman! "
" There was a maiden fair, with midnight eyes and hair,
And crimson broidered tunic on her bosom,
With voice like music sweet, and dainty little feet
That scarcely stirred the odors from a blossom.
" Impulsive, tender, wild, half a woman, half a child,
Crowned with the gentle graces Nature taught her, —
In bearing and in mien, regal as befits a queen,
In sooth, she was a mighty Sachem's daughter.
" She came when rich perfumes, soft lights and fairy glooms
Made rich and redolent, a summer even —
Came when the full-orbed moon, kissing the brow of June,
Went with the stars around the walls of Heaven.
" And, sitting at my feet, she sung so sadly sweet,
That all my leaves bent tenderly above her —
Sung of some bitter strife, that shadowed her young life,
Between her warlike kindred and her lover.
" Then turned to me and smiled like a self-forgetful child,
By some new joy of all its sorrow cheated,
And sung a tender strain with a soft and low refrain,
That all the enamored fauns and fays repeated.
" " Come love, come, the night dews weep;
The fair young flowers are all asleep, —
The bees have borne their treasures home,
The birds are dreaming — come, love, come.
" " Come, love, come; the moon is high,
The camp-fires burn along the sky,
Fire-flies dance in the purple gloom,
And I am lonely — come, love, come.
" " Come love, come — the moonbeams spread
A golden path for thee to tread;
The softest light and fairest bloom
Await and woo thee — come love, come. "
" Then, murmured she, a name, and silently there came,
From out the ambush of some leafy cover,
A chief renowned and brave, of aspect grand and grave,
And tenderly her dark eyes met her lover.
" " O, bird of sweetest song, hast thou waited for me long?
I came with flying feet to thee, Wynona —
On the war-path, in the chase, I have only seen thy face,
Only heard thy tender speaking, dear Wynona.
" " Come love, away with me, I will make a lodge for thee
And cover it with rarest scented cedar,
Bring mosses soft and sweet to spread beneath thy feet,
And, for thy bed, the white down of the eider.
" " With shining beads I'll deck thy polished arms and neck —
I'll dress the finest skins for thine adorning;
Despoil the birds of air of their plumes to crown thy hair,
And waken thee with kisses every morning.
" " I'll hunt the honey bee o'er prairies wild and free,
And bring to thee his hoards of golden treasure,
And by word and action prove that I love thee with a love
That finds in human speech no name, no measure.
" " O, fly with me to-night — fly by this mystic light —
My bark canoe floats idly on the river;
I have store of venison there, nuts and berries ripe and rare,
And a hundred ready arrows in my quiver.
" " O, dearest Osselo, my heart is fain to go,
But, ah, my tribe would follow fast to slay thee;
Wait, yet a little while, my sire's approving smile,
Wait but another moon, O love, I pray thee.
" " Then meet me here again, and by this bitter pain,
And by the love whose tenderness thou knowest —
By all things good and true, by blessed Manitou,
I pledge myself to follow where thou goest.
" " O, silver-throated bird, I take thee at thy word —
Pleading so tender, sweet, brooks no denial,
I will come, as thou hast said, I will come alive or dead,
With love grown stronger, fonder through the trial.
" The chieftain spoke no more, but I saw his heart was sore,
And to Wynona's eyes the big tears started,
As she turned, with quivering face, from her lover's fond embrace,
And to the lodge-fires of her tribe departed.
" That month was long to me, " whispered the old oak tree,
" The moon was longer than her wont in waning,
And when her light was gone, the days went slowly on,
And all my leaves made murmurs of complaining.
" At length the moon rose high in the star-crown of July,
Lighting dim vistas down the forest mazes,
Building, with arch and aisle, a fairy palace pile,
Hung with the tapestry of silver hazes.
" " It is their tryst," I said, and listening heard a tread,
That but a falling leaf could match for lightness,
And then the peerless form of the maiden wild and warm,
Brought back to my lone life beauty and brightness.
" " It is over now, she sighed, " I have conquered, I am free —
No power on earth my soul from his can sever,
And whatever fate betide, I am here to be his bride,
To follow him through life, through death, forever. "
" Then, from a leafy screen of paly gold and green,
The chieftain strode and said: Welcome, Wynona!
There is no star, no moon, no dawn, no sun at noon,
When thou art hidden from mine eyes, Wynona.
" " Now, dearest, thou art mine, by a promise and a sign,
All mine, Wynona, to support and cherish:
And if ever I should prove recreant to thy tender love,
By the red hand of the foeman may I perish.
" " Come — " Not another word from his lips was ever heard:
A murderous arrow, through the forest flying,
Found, with its venomed dart, his brave and noble heart,
And at Wynona's feet the chief fell dying.
" She did not shriek with fear, speak a word, nor shed a tear,
But her midnight eyes grew fixed in stony horror
Upon the cold, dead face, still lighted with the grace
Of that triumphant love, Death crowned with sorrow.
" " He sleeps," at length she said, " Osselo is not dead
The happy birds will waken him with singing;
When morning lights the skies he will open his dear eyes;
He will waken when the lily bells are ringing.
" " Sleep love, sleep — the morn's soft light
Drifts over the purple shores of Night,
Round us the shadows are cool and deep —
Safe on my bosom, sleep love, sleep.
" " Sleep love, sleep — the winds are still;
There is no murmur of fount or rill;
Above us the stars their watch-fires keep, —
Safe on my bosom, sleep love, sleep.
" Fondly, the morning light kissed off the tears of night,
And made all Nature's pulses leap and quiver, —
Gave every leaf a grace, and caught in its embrace
Hill, valley, tangled wold and winding river.
" And still the chieftain's eyes turned to the morning skies
Their deeps of darkness veiled by lids unmoving;
Warm breezes from the South kissed his icy brow and mouth,
But could not win him back to life and loving.
" And still Wynona prest that cold head to her breast,
In half unconscious, half bewildered seeming, —
Still pleaded for one word, from lips that never stirred,
And sadly sung, as if her soul were dreaming.
" " Wake love, wake — the night is gone. —
The stars are hidden in the dawn;
The glad birds sing in bower and brake;
The sun is shining — wake love, wake.
" At length, her father came, caressed her, called her name;
Said: " Come away Wynona, O my daughter!
See, Osselo is dead, his life, his soul has fled
To hunting grounds beyond the silent water.
" Then, from her sad, dark eyes flashed a look of wild surprise,
As if from some long, troubled sleep awaking.
She gave the cold, dead face, a long and fond embrace,
And, by her look, I knew her heart was breaking.
" " If Osselo is dead, let me die too, she said —
There is no might on earth our souls to sever;
By all things true below, by blessed Manitou,
I pledged myself to follow him forever,"
" She said, and quick as thought, her cunning fingers caught
A dainty dagger from its wampum cover,
Turned to the morning sun — one stroke — the deed is done.
" I come, she said, and died beside her lover.
" " Alas!" her father cried, " my silver dove, my pride,
Who now will light the lodge fire for Yoholo?
Who will greet him from the chase with tender, loving face,
And dress the feast of venison for Yoholo?
" " Who will waken him at morn? Who grind the yellow corn?
And broider wampum leggings for Yoholo?
Ah, the medicine-man was right, Maumee's curse has wrought its blight;
There is darkness in the wigwam of Yoholo.
" They dressed the maid with care, and bound her raven hair
With many a shining bead and crimson feather —
Gave the chief his pipe and bow for the journey he must go;
And laid them down to dreamless rest together.
" Then wailing all day long, went the sorrowful death-song,
To waft them safely o'er the silent water —
Brave warriors bowed in grief for their young and noble chief,
And Love lamented for the Sachem's daughter.
" Many an age has come and gone, and still the world moves on,
But of all the living then who knew and loved them,
I only now abide where the lovers lived and died,
And faithfully keep watch and ward above them.
" But when that night in June brings back the full orbed moon
To flood the forest reaches with her glory,
They come without a sound from the happy hunting ground,
And sitting here, rehearse their own sad story. "