1850-CO.] FRANCES A. SHAW, (J23 Had angel forms descended then to visit haunts of men, They might have made their chosen home, that sweet sequestered glen ; For well we know the spirit Beauty has to earth come down, And placed on Minnehaha's brow her fairest, brightest crown. And this was "Minnehaha," these were then the " laughing waters " That echoed once the laughter of the for- est's dark-eyed daughters. Here, from summer's heat retreating, would the Indian hunter stray. And bare his fevered forehead to their cool light-falling spray. Oft, in listening to their music, would the savage chief forego Many a dream of battle gory, and of hos- tile tribe laid low ; Here, beneath this arch of waters, many a whispered vow of love. Blending with their ceaseless murmur, sought the Father's ear above. Years have fled. Warrior and chieftain, wily hunter, dusky maid. From their own dear " laughing waters," to a far-off land have strayed. And fairer brows are bared to catch the baptism of their spray, But yet no tone of grief is blent with their sweet, joyous lay ; As in their never-varying course those waters rush along. Their mystic notes a language find, they sing me this wild song : Through the ages old and hoary, Since creation's natal day. All unknown to song or story, Have we journeyed on our way. At the morning's sun upspringing, 'Mid the deepening shades of night, Ever laughing, ever singing, From this airy rock-crowned height. Fall we to our streamlet's waters, Glide we to our father's breast. Fairest of the beauteous daughters That wiyiin his arms find rest. 'Mid the tempest's rage and madness, Still our pleasant voice ye hear ; When the sun smiles out in gladness, Yet it thrills all natui-e's ear. When the weary earth is sleeping 'Neath the pensive, pale moonlight, And the stars are vigils keeping In the silent halls of night, Carol we the same sweet story. Chant we still a song to Him, In the radiance of whose glory All our brightness is but dim. " Minnehaha ! " " laughing water ! " when my heart is sad and lone. Let me seek again thy pleasant haunts, and listen to thy tone. When earth's coldness chills my spirit, when I faint beneath life's cross. When its idols all are shattered, and its good seems very dross. Let me learn from thee a lesson, though deep waters round me roll. Though earth's storms shall gather o'er me, and its sorrows shroud my soul, Still serene amid the tempest may I lift my heart above. And go on the path of duty, trusting in the Father's love.
