Lay trackless by intruding stranger’s step,
While the blithe savage in his untamed pride
Roved the free woods, and dreamed not of the day
When pale invaders should profane his home—
An Indian maiden bloomed—among those tribes
Renowned for loveliness. Her step was light
As the young fawn’s; her dark bright eye spoke love,
And youth, and happiness. Her fairy song
Was first to greet the morning—first at eve
Hailed with delight, when her young comrades left