“Did earth ever see
On thy prairie's line
Tribes older than thine,
Old Chief of the Cree?”
“Before us we know
Of none who lived here;
Our shafts bade them go.
“But others have share
Of lake and of land,
A swift-footed band
No arrow can scare.
“Their coming has been
When flowers are gay;
On islet and bay
Their footprints are seen.
“There dance little feet
Light grasses they break;
Beneath the blue lake
Must be their retreat.
“We listen, and none
Hears ever a sound;
But where, lily-crowned,
Floats the isle in the sun,
“Three children we see
Like sunbeams at play.
And, voiceless as they,
Dogs bounding in glee.
“Of old they were there!
Ever young, who are these
Whom Death cannot seize?
What Spirits of air?”