}

THE INDIAN MAIDEN'S REPLY.*

BY MRS. FRANCES S. OSGOOD.

HALF earnest, half sportive, yet listening she stood,
That queenly young creature, the child of the wood,
Her curving lips parted-her dark eyes downcast,
Her hands locked before her-her heart beating fast,
And around her the forest's majestic arcade,

With the pure sunset burning like fire through the shade:
He spake of the goodness, the glory of Him,

Whose smile lit the Heavens-whose frown made them dim;
And with one flashing glance of the eyes she upraised
Full of rapture impassioned, her Maker she praised.

He spake of the Saviour, his sorrow, his truth,

His pity celestial, the wrong and the ruth;

And quick-gushing tears dimmed the gaze that she turned
To his face, while her soul on her sunny cheek burned.
Then he thought in his fond zeal to wile her within

The pale of the church; but as well might he win

The esteemed friend who related to me this incident was, I believe, himself an eyewitness to the scene.

16

THE INDIAN MAIDEN'S REPLY.

Yon cloud that floats changefully on in the light,
A fawn of the forest, a star-ray of light,

As tame to his purpose, or lure from her race,
That wild child of freedom all impulse and grace.
She listens in sad, unbelieving surprise;

Then shakes back her dark, glossy locks from her eyes,

And with eloquent gesture points up to the skies.
At last, to awaken her fears he essays;.

He threatens God's wrath if thus freely she strays.
Wild, sweet, and incredulous rang through the wood
The laugh of the maiden, as proudly she stood;
Soft, thrilling, and glad woke the echo around,
True nature's harmonious reply to that sound.
Then lowly and reverent answered the maid:-
"God speaketh afar in the forest," she said,

"And he sayeth-Behold in the woodland so wild,

With its heaven-arched aisle, the true church of my child.'"