Taapookaa: A Huron Legend

THE clouds roll o'er the pine-trees,
Like waves that are charged with ire ;
golden and glory-hued their crests,
Ablaze with a gorgeous fire.

The sun has gone down in splendour,
The heavens are wild with flame,
And all the horizon is burning
With colours that have no name.

And over the mighty forests
The mystical hues are spread,
As calm as the smiles of angels,
As still as the peaceful dead.

And the lake, serene and thoughtful,
And the river, deep in dreams,
And the purple cliff in the distance,
Are robed with the glory gleams ;

Until earth seems a sacred temple,
Where spirits of light have trod,
Where man should not dare to enter ,
Too sacred for aught but God.

Calm eve over lovely Huron,
Calm eve in the sombre wild,
And over the rude bark wigwam
Of the swarthy forest-child.

There's a gathering of the red-men,
Of their youths and maidens fair,
Of the mothers of braves and heroes,
And the feast is spreading there.

From the banks of Cadaraqui,
From Niagara's solitudes,
Where the song of the Water Spirit
Rolled vast through the primal woods.

From Superior's rocky defiles,
Her grand and rugged shores,
From Utawa and blue-waved Erie,
Came the Chiefs and Sagamores,

Bringing gifts from the distant lodges,
Rare gifts for the lovely bride,
Taapookaa, the fairest maiden
That ever for true-love sighed.

Taapookaa, the loved, the lovely,
No beauty was there like hers,
And through all the tribes of the forest
The Braves were her worshippers.

But where is her young Sioux lover,
The pride of her trusting heart ?
The Brave that her love hath chosen,
Whose life is of hers a part ?

Away from the bridal revels,
Away from the feast he roves,
Alone over lonely rivers,
Alone in the lonely groves !

Taapookaa must wed another,
The chief of a neighbour tribe ;
Neither force nor friends can save her,
Neither tears nor prayers can bribe !

For this have the Chieftains gathered,
Great Chiefs from the wilds afar ;
They have prayed to Manitou freely,
And saluted the Bridal Star.

All things for the feast are ready,
All ripe for the revelry,
And the bridegroom chief is waiting,
But Taapookaa, where is she ?

Like the zephyr that tends the flowers,
That bendeth but may not break,
So, lightly, her footstep treadeth
The cliff o'er the calmy lake.

The stars are all weeping for her,
The moon hath a look forlorn,
For the beautiful maid, all blushes,
All blushes, and truth, and scorn !

The breeze hath a mournful cadence,
A sigh for the fairest fair ;
It cooleth her maiden blushes,
And fingereth her jetty hair.

Like a tragic queen she standeth,
On the jagged cliff alone ;
All nature has paused to shudder,
And the stricken forests moan.

A prayer for her young Sioux lover,
That wanders the wilds forlorn,
And she leaps from the cliff, all daring,
And maidenly truth, and scorn.

At night when the stars are shining,
And the moon, with silvery hue,
Illumines the lake with radiance,
Is seen a white canoe.

Two shadowy forms within it,
Two faces that seem to smile,- —
The maid and her brave Sioux lover
Returned from the Spirit-Isle.