I
Down in the darkful vale of death, forgotten years gone by,
Ah! who into that secret womb, in memory will fly?
Back to forgotten memory, a hundred years ago,
A hundred years ago, or more, thy legends now show?
A hundred years ago, or more, in silent solitude
By Etiwando's raging flood, young Etiwando stood!
Disdain was in his swelling heart, as flashed the meteor o'er.
His dark black eyes, in liquid fire, a strong resemblance bore!
II