He fell upon her neck and wept,
And pressed her to his heart:
"My peerless Amakeya! come—
We'll never, never part."
The white man's haughty look relaxed,
A tear roll'd down his face,
And, wond'ringly, he gazed upon
That form of matchless grace.
And then—with mien as if he spoke
To dame of high degree—
He bow'd before that savage girl,
And answered soothingly:
"Thou noble creature! God has made
Thee beautiful and fair;
And given thee a soul as pure
As e'er breathed Christian pray'r.
"But go,—I dare not hear thee speak,
I dare not hear thee pray;
It grieves my heart, my noble maid,
But—I must answer "nay":
"The stern command I gave, does come
From higher pow'r than mine;
But go in peace, thy words have smoothed
Thy father's lot and thine."
Then mournfully the maiden look'd
Upon her aged sire,
Still weeping on her breast, as if
In tears he would expire.
