I see the fallen maple
Where he stood, his red scarf waving,
Though waters nearly bury
Boughs they then were newly laving.
I hear his last farewell, as it echoed from the brake.—
But no, it is the loon alone—the loon upon the lake,
Ah me! it is the loon alone—the loon upon the lake.
TO A BIRD, SEEN UNDER MY WINDOW IN THE GARDEN.
By the late Mrs. H. R. Schoolcraft, who was a grand daughter of the war chief Wabojeeg.