The Ricara father said to the maid, "Listen to me, my dove, When I gave thee away, I deem'd that I gave My child to one who would gain renown, By the deeds which had given his sires renown, To a boy who would snatch, ere his limbs were grown, The heaviest bow of the strongest man, And hie to the strife with a painted face, And a shout that should ring in the lonely glades, Like a spirit's among the hills; I did not deem I had given my dove To a youth with the heart of a doe; A gatherer-in of flowers, A snarer of simple birds, A weeder with women of maize[D], A man with the cheek of a girl-- Dost thou listen? "Now, since thy lover is weak in heart, A woman in mind and soul, Nor boasts, nor wishes to boast, Of deeds in battle done, Nor sings, nor wishes to sing, Of men by his arm laid low, Nor tells how he bore the flames, his foes Did kindle around his fettered limbs; And, since he finds more joy in flowers, And had rather work in the maize-clad field, Than wend to the glorious strife With the warriors of his tribe, I will not keep my faith.-- My daughter hears.-- I bid thee see the youth once more, And then behold his face no more. Tell him, the child of the Red Wing weds With none but the fierce and bold, Tell him, the man, whose fires she lights, Must be strong of soul, and stout of arm, Able to send a shaft to the heart Of him who would quench that fire, Able to bend a warrior's bow, Able to poise a warrior's spear, Able to bear, without a groan, The torments devised by hungry foes, The pincers rending his flesh, The hot stones searing his eye-balls.-- Dost thou hear?" Then down the daughter's beauteous cheeks Ran drops like the plenteous summer rain. "I hear, my father, Yet, hard thy words weigh on my heart; Thou gav'st me to him, while we lay, Unknowing the pledge, in our willow cage(3), When first we opened our eyes on the world, And saw the bright and twinkling stars, And the dazzling sun, and the moon alive(4), And the fields bespread with blooming flowers, And we breath'd the balmy winds of spring; The old men said, to one another, 'Dost thou know, brother, Thar, when his years are the years of a man, And his deeds are the deeds of the good and true, The son of the Yellow Pine Shall marry the Red Wing's daughter?' And the women took up the tale, And the boys and girls, when met to play, Told in our ears the pleasing words, That I was to be his wife.