That only Love could e’er divine.
He was a white man—hated race!
But ah! what looks, what winning grace!
And who such gentle words could say?
Her simple heart was stol’n away!
The hideous bridegroom comes at last—
The feast is gorged—the night is past—
At morn behold the father lie
In writhing, wildered agony!
He hastes the nuptials that his eyes