Page:Landon in Fisher's Drawing Room Scrap Book 1836.pdf/22

Rh

Rh

The red leaf far more heavily Fell down to autumn earth, Than her light feet, which seemed to move To music and to mirth.

With the light feet of early youth, What hopes and joys depart! Ah! nothing like the heavy step Betrays the heavy heart.

It is a usual history That Indian girl could tell; Fate sets apart one common doom For all who love too well.

The proud—the shy—the sensitive,— Life has not many such; They dearly buy their happiness, By feeling it too much.

A stranger to her forest home, That fair young stranger came; They raised for him the funeral song— For him the funeral flame.

Love sprang from pity,—and her arms Around his arms she threw; She told her father, "If he dies,    Your daughter dieth too."

For her sweet sake they set him free— He lingered at her side; And many a native song yet tells Of that pale stranger’s bride.

Two years have passed—how much two years Have taken in their flight! They’ve taken from the lip its smile, And from the eye its light.

Poor child! she was a child in years— So timid and so young; With what a fond and earnest faith To desperate hope she clung!