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He watched

silent

forlorn

atop tall mountain range

the wind blows chill

and it doth fill

the valley far below

with white and blowing snow

He shivers

as frost nips at his raw and weathered face

and penetrates thin shirt

Weariness

creeps into his bones

and chills his soul

and hunger ever gnawing

endlessly

doth take control

He hath traveled many miles

for one small bit of food

for one small sign of buffalo

and now he cannot find

and has not seen

one small green blade of grass

only barren branches of dead trees

and endless blowing snow

For the blizzard doth range both wide and deep

and it doth make the red man

to mourn and freeze annd weep

His pony, tired and weary

stands, head drooping there alone

his shaggy mane entangled

with the wind that's blown

and both man and beast

their spirits merge into the other one

and each one dreams

of faraway and distant

home

Home, where green valleys

merge with  the flowing springs

and pleasant hills

Home where the deer are plenty

and where the lakes with fish are filled

He dreams of that special maiden

with the black and flowing hair

that bore his son

oh, she was the one he loved

the one now, who was not there

killed by the dreaded white man on a raid

and for the saving of his life

the highest price she'd paid

He was the last one of his tribe

the valient Iriquois

He was the chieftons only son

three other sons

all killed in battles

bravely fought

and to no avail

and all for naught

for white man comes

endlessly across the plain

underneath great sooing pines

and verdant range

to take away their heritage

and their homes

and only solitude and pain

doth there remain

The white man came and killed

the food of many tribes

and took away their lifeline

the buffalo

with their many hides

Hunger gnaws endlessly

and he is weak and tired

and down his windburned cheek

there rolls a tear

but now just one enemy remains

for he hath now

only death to fear

and as he gazes out across

the endless blue grey sky

it seems that he sees the vision of his father

old and weak

dead from old age and hunger

upon his ancient death and funeral bier

He is a man of thirty summers

but now his burden makes him weak and pale

and tho his totem keeps him strong

his life seems now of no acount

to no avail

Oh Great Spirit, hear me, hear my cry

and if you sleep

I hope to wake you from your pleasant

rest

up in the sky

Hear me, oh Great Spirit of the Iriquois

and take away this hunger pain

for it surely doth annoy

send me the eagle bold and strong

to give me strength to live again

for I will not last this cold night through

if food you will not send

and lo

he thought he heard the eagles mighty shriek

and then he looked around

both far and wide

but did not find

the thing that he did seek

but what was that--

was it the rushing of great wings

but no, it was only something else to dread

for the sound he heard

was only the falling of his pony

now frozen stiff and at his feet lay dead

Now he also crumbles to the ground

blood dripping from frost bitten hands

and the heart that beat so strong

so very long

falters now within his mighty breast

And then he doth really hear the eagle cry

and closer it doth come

to take him to the land

of his eternal rest

to home

where in freedom

his spirit can hunt the mighty buffalo

where it can always roam

to the land of his ancestors

and now his totem

the great eagle comes to meet hm there

with soothing sounds

to take this bold and weary

warrior spirit home