Not long she gazed on those masts so tall, And that ship so gallant and trim, For a hero’s form eclipsed them all, And her eyes were fix’d on him. And peering forth from a friendly screen Of spruce and darkling fir, She plainly beheld the stranger’s mein, But the stranger saw not her. With martial cap and coat of red, And bright sword at his side, He paced the deck with a princely tread, And the dark woods calmly eyed. But soon o’er forest, glade, and stream Darted the sun’s bright morning beam, And, glancing through her sheltering tree, Awoke that maiden’s revery. She started, for ’ twas now the hour When Opechancanough would come, And thrice in haste she left the bower To trace her pathless journey home; But thrice return’d, she knew not why, And, lingering, look’d with soul-lit eye Upon that stranger still; Nor wist she what should make a sigh Her throbbing bosom fill. But hark! a voice is on the breeze, The raven-crested chief is near, And, moving through the distant trees, His train of warriors now appear; And like a wild and startled fawn, Lightly that forest child has gone, Through dark morass, and grove, and glen, To seek her father’s home again. IV. At dawning Powhatan arose From calm and undisturb’d repose, And when his brief repast was done He summon’d forth his valiant son, Dark Nantaquas, of manly form, And soul with native courage warm, So nimble of foot and stout of limb, That few could wrestle or run with him. ‘List, Nantaquas--hear our command; ‘Take bow and hatchet in thy hand, ‘And a full quiver at thy back, ‘Lest foes may chance to cross thy track, ‘And haste thee to our chieftains all, ‘And each unto our council call. ‘Call Chesapeakes and Nansamonds, ‘And broad Potomac’s warlike sons, ‘And rouse the chiefs of every clan, ‘From Orapakes to Kecoughtan.’ Fleet Nantaquas his sire obey’d, And, in his warrior arms array’d, His quiver over his shoulders threw, And away on the wings of morning flew. V.