A chieftain I, in battle skilled,
Full many a foeman I have killed;
I've scalped the locks from many a brow,
And never shirked a task till now.
Through ghostly fogs, o'er leaping brooks,
'Mid slumbering snakes in dusky nooks,
O'er sullen lairs and reedy shades,
O'er quivering brakes and venomed glades,
O'er gusty hills, sun-flushed and high,
That shook their locks against the sky,