Upon the barren sand,
The lonely captive stood:
Around him came, with bow and brand,
The red men of the wood.
Like one of old, his doom he hears,
Rock-bound on Ocean's brim;
The Chieftain's daughter knelt in tears,
And breathed a prayer for him.
Above his head, in air,
The savage war-club swung:
The frantic maid, in wild despair,
Her arms around him flung;
Then shook the warriors off the shade,
Like leaves on aspen limb,
Subdued by that heroic maid,
Who breathed a prayer for him!
'Unbind him!' gasp'd the Chief;
'It is your King's decree.'
He kiss'd away the tears of grief,
And set the captive free!
'Tis ever thus when, in life's storm,
Hope's Star to man grows dim,
An Angel kneels, in woman's form,
And breathes a prayer for him.