IV.

OREIKA.

Alas, my sister, do not chide
That thoughts of grief, instead of pride,
Within my heart lie deep;
Fain would I speak with mien elate
Of thy predestined glorious fate,
And yet I can but weep.

When come the short'ning Autumn days,
While gathering in the golden maize,
I'll miss thy tender voice,
And when our merry maidens say:
"Oreika, join us in our play,"
How can I then rejoice?

And, oh! I will not grieve alone,
For when another moon has flown,
And Osseo will return,
Hopeful, to seek thee for his bride,
How deeply will his heart be tried
When he thy fate shall learn!

MINAHITA.

Enough, my sister, wouldst make me sad,