But Hope and Love, like Indian summer’s glow,
Gilding the prairies ere December’s snow,
Lit with a transient beam Winona’s eye.
The season for the Maidens’ Dance drew nigh,
And Redstar vowed, whatever might betide,
To claim her on the morrow as his bride.
What now to her was all the world beside?
The evil omens darkening all her sky,
Malicious sneers, her rival’s envious eye,
While her false lover lingered at her side,