The red girl of the sky-blue lake,
She loves that chieftain bold:—
He loves again: but hatred lurks,
And ever by day and by night it works
In the heart of her father old.
And hither, when the swan leads off
Her brood on the sleeping swell,
Beneath a climbing vine they meet,
With tenderest words, in accents sweet,
The tale of their loves to tell.