William McCarty, comp. The American National Song Book. 1842.
PocahontasGeorge Pope Morris (18021864)
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A single captive stood;
Around him came, with bow and brand,
The red men of the wood.
Like him 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.
The savage war-club swung:
The frantic girl, in wild despair,
Her arms about him flung.
Then shook the warriors of the shade,
Like leaves on aspen limb,
Subdued by that heroic maid
Who breathed a prayer for him!
“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.