Where deer and stately bison roam
O’er broad, uncultured plains.
A land whose giant lakes and streams,
With gleaming fish abound;
Where forests wave, and mountains tower—
A boundless hunting-ground.
’Tis his dream, as he calmly looks abroad
On the sunset glow, at even—
A hunting-ground, where that sun sinks down,
Is the Indian’s dream of Heaven.