And shadows fall on Catharines-town.


Oswaya swaying to and fro.


By the Dark Empire's Western gate
Eight stately, painted Sachems wait
For Amochol-- for Amochol!
Hazel and samphire consecrate
The magic blaze that burns like Hate,
While the deep witch-drums roll-- and roll.
Sorceress, shake thy dark hair down!
The Red Priest comes from Catharines-town.


Ha-ai! Karenna! Fate is Fate.


Now let the Giants clothed in stone
Stalk from Biskoonah; while, new grown,
The Severed Heads fly high-- fly high!
White-throat, White-throat, thy doom is known!
O Blazing Soul that soars alone
Like a Swift Arrow to the sky,
High winging-- fling thy Wampum down,
Lest the sky fall on Catharines-town.


White-throat, White-throat, thy course is flown.