poems.
111
While her dark glance at Odo stole,
The fresh-slain venison that hung there,
And quickly did their meal prepare.
Now as its smoking fumes did rise,
And the warm corn-cakes met his eyes,
Poor Odo felt that hunger press'd,
Nor scorn'd to be the Indian's guest.
The fresh-slain venison that hung there,
And quickly did their meal prepare.
Now as its smoking fumes did rise,
And the warm corn-cakes met his eyes,
Poor Odo felt that hunger press'd,
Nor scorn'd to be the Indian's guest.
The supper o'er, the Indian drew
A deerskin forth, soft dress'd and new,
And bade young Odo seek his bed
On the hard ground, and o'er him spread
The coverlet strange, and bade him sleep;
But the strange voice so sad and deep
Long rested mournful in his ears,
And his sad fate drew forth new tears.
Twice in the long and dismal night
The boy gaz'd on the flick'ring light
Of the wild flame that o'er the smoke
Shot forth, and him from slumber woke.
There sat the Indian chieftain still,
He saw wild rage his dark eyes fill,
And heard the anguish he suppress'd
Speak in the groans that fill'd his breast.
But when the morning lit the sky
His dark wife woke the weary boy,
A deerskin forth, soft dress'd and new,
And bade young Odo seek his bed
On the hard ground, and o'er him spread
The coverlet strange, and bade him sleep;
But the strange voice so sad and deep
Long rested mournful in his ears,
And his sad fate drew forth new tears.
Twice in the long and dismal night
The boy gaz'd on the flick'ring light
Of the wild flame that o'er the smoke
Shot forth, and him from slumber woke.
There sat the Indian chieftain still,
He saw wild rage his dark eyes fill,
And heard the anguish he suppress'd
Speak in the groans that fill'd his breast.
But when the morning lit the sky
His dark wife woke the weary boy,
