“Weep[267] not, Nekama; I shall return;
Wait for me here on the mountain side;
When the woods in their autumn glory burn,
I shall come again to claim my bride.”
Slowly the Indian lifts her head;
Dry is her cheek, and clear her eye:
“Nekama[268] will wait as thou hast said:
The son of the pale-face cannot lie.
Seeking thy sails on the stream below,[269]
Under the shade of the tall pine-tree,[270]