Day by day she grew in grace of form and beauty,
Till to where the river meets the rolling sea,
Spread her fame as loveliest of Indian maidens.
Born a princess of the forest, born to rule--
Rule the hearts of men with chains of love--was she.

Springtime into summer passed, with wild rose wreaths
Maidens decked the princess' raven locks;
But in Autumn played they with the yellow corn;
And in Winter oft on snowshoes circled round.

"Maidens, come, we'll to the chase away, away!
Sing aloud with glee our blithesome roundelay,
Blow our mimic bugles till the echoes ring,
Over hill and dale the startled warriors bring,
Gathering around the campfire we will make the night
Gay with song, dancing within the mystic light."

Thus cried Matoax-Pocahontas--princess proud.
On her dark locks placed a squaw the stag horns curved,
Bound them fast with chains of pearly tinted shells,
Threw a deerskin mantle o'er the rounded limbs,
Hung upon her back the quiver full of arrows.
Score of dusky maidens formed the royal guard,
With their painted bodies and their flowing hair
Untamed creatures of the forest crouched they there,
Will-o'-wisp-like, darting, hiding, re-appearing,
Silently they waited signal for the chase.
Word was given, the mimic bugle shrilly blew,
Echoing through the glades, whose startled denizens