The Indian Warrior’s Grave.
Green is the grave by the wild dashing river,
Where sleeps the brave with his arrows and quiver
Where in his pride he roved in his childhood
Fought he, and died, in the depths of the wildwood.
In the lone dell, while his wigwam defending,
Nobly he fell ’neath the hazel-boughs bending;
Where the pale foe and he struggled together,
Who from his bow tore his swift-arrow’d feather.