We have launched the light canoe
Upon Niagara's waters blue,
'Tis white and bright as an ocean shell,
Swifter than the sea gull's wing,
Worthy the hand that will guide it well,
Amid the foam wreaths the wild waves fling.

_Chorus of Indian Women._

And it is freighted with fragrant flowers,
The brightest culled 'mid our forest bowers,
Fruits ripened beneath the sun's warm rays--
And silky tassels of golden maize,
And with them the maid who is doomed to bring
These gifts to the pitiless Cataract King.

_Chorus of Male and Female Voices._

Fair are the flowers, but she's fairer far,
Lovelier she than the Evening Star,
Pure as the moonbeams that tremulous shine,
Flooding the earth with their sheen divine.


VI.

TOLONGA.

Oh weary heart! I have wandered lone