29
The Rapids of the St. Mary.
On the banks of the bright river, waiting for the light canoe,
Which was soon to safely bear us, the St. Mary's Rapids through;
How my heart a moment faltered as I watched the whirling waves,
Holding up their white arms to us, smiling over silent graves.
Which was soon to safely bear us, the St. Mary's Rapids through;
How my heart a moment faltered as I watched the whirling waves,
Holding up their white arms to us, smiling over silent graves.
But my fears as quickly vanished, and I mocked the waters whirl,
As I watched the radiant features of the bright-eyed Indian girl;
And her merry cry, exultant as the boatman came in view
Stealing noiselessly upon us, in his little birch canoe.
As I watched the radiant features of the bright-eyed Indian girl;
And her merry cry, exultant as the boatman came in view
Stealing noiselessly upon us, in his little birch canoe.
