And when their venturous chieftain wandered forth,
Ill hap betrayed him to the savage pride,
The death-club rose, his head upon the earth,
To perish there and thus, that man of kingly worth.
Not yet! before that last sad deed be done,
An Indian maiden springs beneath the blow,
And says her virgin blood shall freely run,
For him, extended on the ground below,
See! how, her face upturned, her tears do flow,
See Love and anguish painted in her eyes,