“She left an old white-headed sire; A mother loving, thoughtful, good; She left a home of love, to live For him, within the wood. “And that old couple did provide, Out of their need, for many a want Else unforseen; their daughter’s dower In gifts of love, not scant. “His father with cold scorn received So dowered a daughter, without name; Nor could his purposed exile win Either assent or blame. “All was a chill of indifference; And from his father’s gate he went, As from a place where none for him Had kindred sentiment. “And in the westren world they dwelt; Life, like a joyous summer morn, Each hope fulfilled; and in the wild To them were children born. “All that his youth had dreamed he found In that life’s freshness; peril strange; Adventure; freedom; sylvan wealth; And ceaseless, blameless change. “And there he, and his heart’s true mate, Essay’d and found how sweet to live, ’Mid nature’s store, with health and love, That life so primitive! “But that sweet life came to an end.-- As falls the golden-eared corn Before the sickle, earthly bliss In human hearts is shorn. “Sickness--bereavement--widowhood-- Oh, these three awful words embrace A weight of mortal woe that fell Upon our sylvan dwelling place! “It matters not to tell of pangs, Of the heart broken, the bereft; I will pass over death and tears, I will pass on to other years, When only two were left! “I and a sister; long had passed The anguish of that time, and we Were living in a home of love, Though in a stranger’s family. “Still in the wilderness we dwelt, And were grown up towards womanhood; When our sweet life of peace was stirred By tales of civil feud. “By rumors of approaching war, Of battle done, of armed bands; Of horrid deeds of blood and fire, Achieved by Indian hands. “We heard it first with disbelief: And long time after, when had spread Wild war throughout the land, we dwelt All unassailed by dread. “For they with whom our lot was cast, Were people of that Christian creed Who will not fight, but trust in God For help in time of need. “The forest round was like a camp, And men were armed day and night; And every morning brought fresh news To heighten their affright. “Through the green forest rose the smoke Of places burn’d the night before; And from their victims, the red scalp The excited Indian tore. “This was around us, yet we dwelt In peace upon the forest bound; Without defence, without annoy, The Indian camp’d all round. “The door was never barr’d by night, The door was never closed by day; And there the Indians came and went, As they had done alway.