The Feast of the Virgins and Other Poems eBook

This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 375 pages of information about The Feast of the Virgins and Other Poems.
          but beware of the pur of the panther! 
For death, like a shadow, will walk
          by thy side in the midst of the forest,
Or follow thy path like a hawk
          on the trail of a wounded Mastinca.[AN]
A son of Unktehee is he,—­
          the Chief of the crafty magicians;
They have plotted thy death;
          I can see thy trail—­it is red in the forest;
Beware of Tamdoka,—­beware. 
          Slumber not like the grouse of the woodlands,
With head under wing, for the glare
          of the eyes that sleep not are upon thee.”

[AN] The rabbit.  The Dakotas called the Crees “Mastincapi”—­Rabbits.

“Winona, fear not,” said DuLuth,
          “for I carry the fire of Wakinyan[AO]
And strong is the arm of my youth,
          and stout are the hearts of my warriors;
But Winona has spoken the truth,
          and the heart of the White Chief is thankful. 
Hide this in thy bosom, dear maid,—­
          ’tis the crucified Christ of the white men.[AP]
Lift thy voice to his spirit in need,
          and his spirit will hear thee and answer;
For often he comes to my aid;
          he is stronger than all the Dakotas;
And the Spirits of evil, afraid,
          hide away when he looks from the heavens.” 
In her swelling, brown bosom she hid
          the crucified Jesus in silver;
Niwaste,"[AQ] she sadly replied;
          in her low voice the rising tears trembled;
Her dewy eyes turned she aside,
          and she slowly returned to the teepees
But still on the swift river’s strand,
          admiring the graceful Winona,
As she gathered, with brown, dimpled hand,
          her hair from the wind, stood the Frenchman.


To bid the brave White Chief adieu,
          on the shady shore gathered the warriors;
His glad boatmen manned the canoe,
          and the oars in their hands were impatient. 
Spake the Chief of Isantees
          “A feast will await the return of my brother. 
In peace rose the sun in the East,
          in peace in the West he descended. 
May the feet of my brother be swift
          till they bring him again to our teepees,
The red pipe he takes as a gift,
          may he smoke that red pipe many winters. 
At my lodge-fire his pipe shall be lit,
          when the White Chief returns to Kathaga;
On the robes of my tee shall he sit;
          he shall smoke with the chiefs of my people. 
The brave love the brave, and his son
          sends the Chief as a guide for his brother,
By the way of the Wakpa Wakan[AR]
          to the Chief at the Lake of the Spirits. 
As light as the foot-steps of dawn
          are the feet of the stealthy Tamdoka;

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The Feast of the Virgins and Other Poems from Project Gutenberg. Public domain.
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