The call of the passing race, in verse and prose . FRIENDSHIP. You say you are a friend to my let our people see your heart, forthat alone can prove friendship. Thetongue makes friends that easily THE SQUAWS SACRIFICE. Amid the pines, at break of day, A guard I stood to bow in hand, but not to slay— Peace in my heart this morn. Soon th signal smoke to me will tell. Here on the bluff above,That Fawn is waiting in the dell For my message of love. For I dare not tread her peoples land—My cause would come to grief— But, with this arrow in my hand,I can defy their Chief
The call of the passing race, in verse and prose . FRIENDSHIP. You say you are a friend to my let our people see your heart, forthat alone can prove friendship. Thetongue makes friends that easily THE SQUAWS SACRIFICE. Amid the pines, at break of day, A guard I stood to bow in hand, but not to slay— Peace in my heart this morn. Soon th signal smoke to me will tell. Here on the bluff above,That Fawn is waiting in the dell For my message of love. For I dare not tread her peoples land—My cause would come to grief— But, with this arrow in my hand,I can defy their Chief. The signal! Now, my friend, fly thereOn where the smoke ascends, And bear the message through the airOf that my tongue intends.
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Keywords: ., bookcentury1900, bookdecade191, booksubjectindiansofnorthamerica
