BY E. F. HOFFMAN.
[From the Chippewa.[53]]
I looked across the water, I bent o’er it and listened, I thought it was my lover, My true lover’s paddle glistened. Joyous thus his light canoe would the silver ripples wake.— But no!—it is the Loon alone—the loon upon the lake. Ah me! it is the loon alone—the loon upon the lake.
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.
FOOTNOTES:
Nenemoshain nindenaindum Meengoweugish abowaugoda Anewahwas mongoduga, &c., &c.
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.