They came with ample stores of food and wine,
And pleasant fruits; she spurned them all away,
And turned her wasted finger toward the spot
Where, starved and cold, her dead love, sleeping, lay.
"O, take me hence - toward the setting sun!
Advertisement
My chieftain's sire still waits with eager eye
Beside my mother lone, whose song I hear;
There, with my broken life, bear me - to die.
"The hunting-grounds grow green with freshened life;
His tribe my warrior husband's coming wait,
And in their councils they must learn this truth:
Through broken vows, Kewaydin met his fate!"
N.