With hues of genius on his cheek In finest tones the Youth could speak: And streams that murmur as they run, He was a lovely youth! I guess Was not so fair as he; And, when he chose to sport and play, Among the Indians he had fought, Such tales as told to any maid By such a Youth, in the green shade, Were perilous to hear. 20 30 40 The wakeful Ruth at midnight shed A solitary tear: She thought again—and did agree With him to sail across the sea, And drive the flying deer. "And now, as fitting is and right, We in the church our faith will plight, A husband and a wife." Even so they did; and I may say That to sweet Ruth that happy day Through dream and vision did she sink, 80 90 Sometimes, most earnestly, he said, "Before me shone a glorious world Fresh as a banner bright, unfurled To music suddenly: I looked upon those hills and plains, And seemed as if let loose from chains, To live at liberty. “No more of this; for now, by thee My soul from darkness is released, Full soon that better mind was gone; Meanwhile, as thus with him it fared, They for the voyage were prepared, And went to the sea-shore, 170 180 But, when they thither came the Youth 190 God help thee, Ruth!-Such pains she had, That she in half a year was mad, And in a prison housed; And there, with many a doleful song Yet sometimes milder hours she knew, — They all were with her in her cell; When Ruth three seasons thus had lain, But of the Vagrant none took thought; 200 210 |