THE YOUNG INDIAN MAID.

There came a nymph dancing

Gracefully, gracefully,

Her eye a light glancing

Like the blue sea;

And while all this gladness

Around her steps hung,

Such sweet notes of sadness

Her gentle lips sung,

That ne'er while I live from my memory shall fade

The song or the look of that young Indian maid.

Her zone of bells ringing

Cheerily, cheerily,

Chimed to her singing

Light echoes of glee;

But in vain did she borrow

Of mirth the gay tone,

Her voice spoke of sorrow,

And sorrow alone.

Nor e'er while I live from my memory shall fade

The song or the look of that young Indian maid.