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Old Spookses' Pass, Malcolm's Katie, and other poems by Isabella Valancy Crawford
page 114 of 243 (46%)

THE WOOING OF GHEEZIS.


The red chief Gheezis, chief of the golden wampum, lay
And watched the west-wind blow adrift the clouds,
With breath all flowery, that from his calumet
Curl'd like to smoke about the mountain tops.
Gheezis look'd from his wigwam, blue as little pools
Drained from the restless mother-wave, that lay
Dreaming in golden hollows of her sands;
And deck'd his yellow locks with feath'ry clouds,
And took his pointed arrows and so stoop'd
And leaning with his red hands on the hills,
Look'd with long glances all along the earth.
"Mudjekeewis, West-Wind, in amongst the forest,
"I see a maid, gold-hued as maize full ripe; her eyes
"Laugh under the dusk boughs like watercourses;
"Her moccasins are wrought with threads of light: her hands
"Are full of blue eggs of the robin, and of buds
"Of lilies, and green spears of rice: O Mudjekeewis,
"Who is the maid, gold-hued as maize full-ripen'd?"
"O sun, O Gheezis, that is Spring, is Segwun--woo her!"
"I cannot, for she hides behind the behmagut--
"The thick leav'd grape-vine, and there laughs upon me."
"O Gheezis," cried Segwun from behind the grape-vine.
"Thy arms are long but all too short to reach me,
"Thou art in heaven and I upon the earth!"
Gheezis, with long, golden fingers tore the grape-vine,
But Segwun laughed upon him from behind
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