"Away," cried the planter, "you Indian dog,
For you shall have nothing here."
The Indian turned to his distant home,
Though hungry and travel sore,
And the planter enter'd his goodly dome,
Nor thought of the Indian more.
When the leaves were sere, to chase the deer,
This self same planter went,
And bewildered stood, in a dismal wood,
When the day was fully spent.
He had lost his way in the chase that day,
And in vain to find it tried,
When a glimmering light fell on his sight,
From a wigwam close beside.
He thither ran, and a savage man
Received him as a guest;
He brought him cheer, the flesh of deer,
And gave him of the best.
Then kindly spread for the white man's bed,
His softest skins beside,
And at break of day, through the forest way,
Went forth to be his guide.
Page:Wee wee songs for our little pets.djvu/143
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