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Rh Light he thought her as a feather,

As the plume upon his head-gear;

Cleared the tangled pathway for her,

Bent aside the swaying branches,

Made at night a lodge of branches,

And a bed with boughs of hemlock,

And a fire before the doorway

With the dry cones of the pine-tree.

All the travelling winds went with them,

O'er the meadow, through the forest;

All the stars of night looked at them,

Watched with sleepless eyes their slumber;

From his ambush in the oak-tree

Peeped the squirrel, Adjidaumo,

Watched with eager eyes the lovers;

And the rabbit, the Wabasso,

Scampered from the path before them,

Peering, peeping from his burrow,

Sat erect upon his haunches,

Watched with curious eyes the lovers.