"
Surged the rich red over dusky cheek and brow,
Then as sudden vanished as she answered softly,
"Thou an Englishman, to wed an Indian maiden?
Ah, Mr. Rolfe, once did I know not difference
'Twist the Red Man's squaw, the White Man's honored wife,
Indian princess was one truly, not a plaything
Whom the world might scorn at will--
But now!
I have learned my lesson all too well, I fear.
Yes, I'm lonely here; and yet among my kindred
I am lonelier still, for I have learned to love
Ways of Pale Face--one did teach me that in childhood.
Oft, methinks, there's no one careth for me now;
But forgive me if I do thee wrong, kind friend,
Thou hast ever patient been, the while my heart was sore."
"Listen, Pocahontas," once again he pleaded,
"Dry those tears, forget past ills, think of the years,
Happy years before us; and the home we'll make
In these wilds, where Indian and English both
Shall a welcome find with Lord and Lady Rolfe."
Pocahontas listened, gave a shy consent,
Yielding heart and hand into his life-long keeping;
Henceforth was John Rolfe to be her true protector,
With his people she would cast her lot for aye.
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