Chapter XIV

Thus, day by day, would O-wen-do-skah strive
To cheer the drooping spirits of the maid,
And keep one glimmering spark of hope alive;
In the deep midnight for celestial aid,
While cowered the trembler at his knee, he prayed
In tones that might have touched a heart of rock:
One morn exclaimed he--"be no more afraid
Bright, peerless scion of a broken stock,
For Heaven the monster's coil is arming to unlock.