There's a mote in my eye or a blot on the page,
And I cannot tell of the joyful greeting;
You may take it for granted and I will engage,
There were kisses and tears at the strange, glad meeting;
For aye since the birth of the swift-winged years,
In the desert drear, in the field of clover,
In the cot, and the palace, and all the world over,--
Yea, away on the stars to the ultimate spheres,
The language of love to the long sought lover,--
Is tears and kisses and kisses and tears.

But why did the lover so long delay?
And whitherward rideth the chief to-day?
As he followed the trail of the buffalo,
From the tees of Kapoza a maiden, lo,
Came running in haste o'er the drifted snow.
She spoke to the chief of the tall Hohe:
"Wiwaste requests that the brave Chaske
Will abide with his band and his coming delay
'Till the moon when the strawberries are ripe and red,
And then will the chief and Wiwaste wed--
When the Feast of the Virgins is past," she said.
Wiwaste's wish was her lover's law;
And so his coming the chief delayed
Till the mid-May blossoms should bloom and fade,--
But the lying runner was Harpstina.
And now with the gifts for the bridal day
And his chosen warriors he took his way,
And followed his heart to his moon-faced maid,