By prayer, and toil, and watching, I may win
The offering of one heart, one human heart,
Bleeding, repenting, loving!
Hark! a step,
An Indian tread! I know the stealthy sound—
’Tis on some quest of evil, through the grass
Gliding so serpent-like.
(He comes forward, and meets an Indian warrior armed.)
Enonio, is it thou? I see thy form
Tower stately through the dusk, yet scarce mine eye