<p class="tit-song">HER WHITE BOSOM BARE <span class="pagenum"><SPAN id="page271" name="page271"></SPAN>(p. 271)</span></p>
<p>The sun had gone down<br/>
O'er the hills of the west,<br/>
And the last beams had faded<br/>
O'er the mossy hill's crest,<br/>
O'er the beauties of nature<br/>
And the charms of the fair,<br/>
And Amanda was bound<br/>
With her white bosom bare.</p>
<p>At the foot of the mountain<br/>
Amanda did sigh<br/>
At the hoot of an owl<br/>
Or the catamount's cry;<br/>
Or the howl of some wolf<br/>
In its low, granite cell,<br/>
Or the crash of some large<br/>
Forest tree as it fell.</p>
<p>Amanda was there<br/>
All friendless and forlorn<br/>
With her face bathed in blood<br/>
And her garments all torn.<br/>
The sunlight had faded<br/>
O'er the hills of the green,<br/>
And fierce was the look<br/>
Of the wild, savage scene.</p>
<p>For <span class="pagenum"><SPAN id="page272" name="page272"></SPAN>(p. 272)</span> it was out in the forest<br/>
Where the wild game springs,<br/>
Where low in the branches<br/>
The rude hammock swings;<br/>
The campfire was kindled,<br/>
Well fanned by the breeze,<br/>
And the light of the campfire<br/>
Shone round on the trees.</p>
<p>The campfire was kindled,<br/>
Well fanned by the breeze,<br/>
And the light of the fire<br/>
Shone round on the trees;<br/>
And grim stood the circle<br/>
Of the warrior throng,<br/>
Impatient to join<br/>
In the war-dance and song.</p>
<p>The campfire was kindled,<br/>
Each warrior was there,<br/>
And Amanda was bound<br/>
With her white bosom bare.<br/>
She counted the vengeance<br/>
In the face of her foes<br/>
And sighed for the moment<br/>
When her sufferings might close.</p>
<p>Young Albon, he gazed<br/>
On the face of the fair<br/>
While her dark hazel eyes<br/>
Were <span class="pagenum"><SPAN id="page273" name="page273"></SPAN>(p. 273)</span> uplifted in prayer;<br/>
And her dark waving tresses<br/>
In ringlets did flow<br/>
Which hid from the gazer<br/>
A bosom of snow.</p>
<p>Then young Albon, the chief<br/>
Of the warriors, drew near,<br/>
With an eye like an eagle<br/>
And a step like a deer.<br/>
"Forbear," cried he,<br/>
"Your torture forbear;<br/>
This maiden shall live.<br/>
By my wampum I swear.</p>
<p>"It is for this maiden's freedom<br/>
That I do crave;<br/>
Give a sigh for her suffering<br/>
Or a tear for her grave.<br/>
If there is a victim<br/>
To be burned at that tree,<br/>
Young Albon, your leader,<br/>
That victim shall be."</p>
<p>Then quick to the arms<br/>
Of Amanda he rushed;<br/>
The rebel was dead,<br/>
And the tumult was hushed;<br/>
And grim stood the circle<br/>
Of warriors around<br/>
While <span class="pagenum"><SPAN id="page274" name="page274"></SPAN>(p. 274)</span> the cords of Amanda<br/>
Young Albon unbound.</p>
<p>So it was early next morning<br/>
The red, white, and blue<br/>
Went gliding o'er the waters<br/>
In a small birch canoe;<br/>
Just like the white swan<br/>
That glides o'er the tide,<br/>
Young Albon and Amanda<br/>
O'er the waters did ride.</p>
<p>O'er the blue, bubbling water,<br/>
Neath the evergreen trees,<br/>
Young Albon and Amanda<br/>
Did ride at their ease;<br/>
And great was the joy<br/>
When she stepped on the shore<br/>
To embrace her dear father<br/>
And mother once more.</p>
<p>Young Albon, he stood<br/>
And enjoyed their embrace,<br/>
With a sigh in his heart<br/>
And a tear on his face;<br/>
And all that he asked<br/>
Was kindness and food<br/>
From the parents of Amanda<br/>
To the chief of the woods.</p>
<p>Young <span class="pagenum"><SPAN id="page275" name="page275"></SPAN>(p. 275)</span> Amanda is home now,<br/>
As you all know,<br/>
Enjoying the friends<br/>
Of her own native shore;<br/>
Nevermore will she roam<br/>
O'er the hills or the plains;<br/>
She praises the chief<br/>
That loosened her chains.</p>
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