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On Huron’s banks, one summer-day, When all things bloomed with beauty gay, I wandered undisturbed and free, Nor heard a sound, save wood-doves cooing, Or birds that tapped the hollow tree, 5 Where owlets sat, their play-mates wooing, And harmony had filled the throng Of pleasure, as I moved along. ’Twas thus, in rapture, I was bound, Where ev’ry beauty smiled around, 10 That could delight the poet’s heart, To gaze on groves, or plants, or waters, Or even to the soul impart Such bliss — once felt by Eden’s daughters, When from their homes, in pleasure’s hour, 15 They strayed to cull each fragrant flow’r. Here every scene that struck the view, Seemed wrought in nature’s richest hue, As if to tell me, where I stood, No foot, before, had ever bended, 20 Save the great Spirit’s of the wood, When all the Nation’s Tribes * ascended, That hill of green — where oft at night, The Council-Fire displayed its light. And as I felt my soul give way, 25 In purest dreams of ecstacy, I wished that in this spot alone, With one kind heart to dwell forever, With one that I could call my own, Enjoying scenes of bliss together, 30 As onward here, from bower to grove, No tyrant hand to check our love. Here, when my heart had fancied all, And brought, as if by magic call, A splendid world of fairy bliss, 35 For me to make my happy dwelling, With all the charms that hallow this — I heard soft words of sorrow swelling, Like these — sent from a grove of pine, As from a minstrel-voice, divine. 40 Happy and blest were the days of my childhood, And smooth rolled the current of pleasure along, When first I delighted to stray through this wild wood, Breathing to echo each feeling in song. And oft when the fire-flies sported around me, 45 Shedding their clear rays like spirits of light, I felt as if witchery’s charms had bound me, In all the soft ties of the purest delight. The roe of the forest — nor beaver when playing, Through groves of green Sumach that bend o’er the steep, 50 Or through vales of luxuriance lightly straying, Or laying their sides in the clear liquid deep — Enjoy not such transport, or pleasure as fired me, When first the bright glance of MORANKA’S black eye, With love’s purest essence had deeply inspired me, 55 And drew all my thoughts from the Spirit on high. I loved with the fervour of Indian feeling — Was loved by the Chief — who as gently carest As the breath of the morn, o’er summer-buds stealing, Ere Sol drinks the dew-drop that hallows their breast.
Approximate Word count = 1719
Approximate Pages = 6.9
(250 words per page double spaced)
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