Chapter XXIX

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Again he goes--again she looks for him--
At the death-stake her warrior-love is tied:
Say, when he thought of her, did the tear swim?
Shook, for an instant, that bold Indian's pride?
No! when he thought of her, it was to nerve
A soul whose purpose knew not how to swerve!
For this she loves him, holds him doubly dear;
He knows what 'tis to love, but not what 'tis to fear.