I have seen it,
Often have I seen it, watched him sail away
Nevermore returning.
Heed my words, O, Daughter!"
Pocahontas listened, but her lips replied not,
All her heart was mirrored in her dreaming eyes,
As she sat with folded hands beneath the shadow
Of mimosa branches with their pink-hued blossoms
Making fairy canopy above her head.
While they sat together in the twilight hour
Came to them a messenger direct from Jamestown,
Indian hunter, many a mile he'd walked to tell
To his people that the Wizard brave lay wounded
Unto death within his cabin, nursed by soldiers
Who would take him soon across the sea to England.
Pocahontas heard the tidings, listening quiet,
But with bated breath--spoke to Winganameo,
Saying, "We must go, mayhap the Captain needs us."
And the old squaw whispered back to her in following,
"Unto Jamestown we will go together, Daughter."
So they journeyed onward through the field and forest,
While the silver moonbeams fitful shadows made
On their pathway, till they reached the settlers' country,
Saw the palisades and houses of the English.
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