She died in beauty,—­like a lay
  Along a moonlit lake;
She died in beauty,—­like the song
  Of birds amid the brake.

She died in beauty,—­like the snow
  On flowers dissolved away;
She died in beauty,—­like a star
  Lost on the brow of day.

She lives in glory,—­like night’s gems
  Set round the silver moon;
She lives in glory,—­like the sun
  Amid the blue of June.

CHARLES DOYNE SILLERY.

THE DEATH OF MINNEHAHA.

     FROM “THE SONG OF HIAWATHA.”

All day long roved Hiawatha
In that melancholy forest,
Through the shadows of whose thickets,
In the pleasant days of Summer,
Of that ne’er forgotten Summer. 
He had brought his young wife homeward
From the land of the Dacotahs;
When the birds sang in the thickets,
And the streamlets laughed and glistened,
And the air was full of fragrance,
And the lovely Laughing Water
Said with voice that did not tremble,
“I will follow you, my husband!”
  In the wigwam with Nokomis,
With those gloomy guests that watched her,
With the Famine and the Fever,
She was lying, the Beloved,
She, the dying Minnehaha. 
  “Hark!” she said; “I hear a rushing,
Hear a roaring and a rushing,
Hear the Falls of Minnehaha
Calling to me from a distance!”
“No, my child!” said old Nokomis,
“’T is the night-wind in the pine-trees!”
  “Look!” she said; “I see my father
Standing lonely at his doorway. 
Beckoning to me from his wigwam
In the land of the Dacotahs!”
“No, my child!” said old Nokomis,
“’T is the smoke, that waves and beckons!”
  “Ah!” said she, “the eyes of Panguk
Glare upon me in the darkness,
I can feel his icy fingers
Clasping mine amid the darkness! 
Hiawatha!  Hiawatha!”
  And the desolate Hiawatha,
Far away amid the forest,
Miles away among the mountains,
Heard that sudden cry of anguish,
Heard the voice of Minnehaha
Calling to him in the darkness,
“Hiawatha!  Hiawatha!”
  Over snow-fields waste and pathless,
Under snow-encumbered branches,
Homeward hurried Hiawatha,
Empty-handed, heavy-hearted,
Heard Nokomis moaning, wailing: 
“Wahonowin!  Wahonowin! 
Would that I had perished for you,
Would that I were dead as you are! 
Wahonowin!  Wahonowin!”
  And he rushed into the wigwam,
Saw the old Nokomis slowly
Rocking to and fro and moaning,
Saw his lovely Minnehaha
Lying dead and cold before him,
And his bursting heart within him
Uttered such a cry of anguish,
That the forest moaned and shuddered,
That the very stars in heaven
Shook and trembled with his anguish. 
  Then he sat down, still and speechless,
On the bed of Minnehaha,
At the feet of Laughing Water,
At those willing feet, that never
More would lightly run to meet him,