With naught but Manitou[342] to fear—
Seemed sweet to those blest sons of men;
Yet it did find its cares e’en then,
For lo![343] at last there came a day
Of sorrow and of dread dismay,
When from a lowering cloud that spread[344]
Across the summer blue o’erhead,
Their God-chiefs awful voice was heard,
As like the thunder rolled each word:
“My children, I am called away