INDIAN PIPE. 



Death in the wood, 

 Death, and a scent of decay, 



Death, and a horror but half un 



derstood, 

 Where blank as the 



dead I lay ; 

 What curse hung 

 over the earth, 

 What woe to the 

 tribes of men, 

 That we felt as a death what 



was made for a birth, 

 And a birth sinking death- 

 ward again ! 



Death in the wood, 

 In the death-pale lips apart \ ^ 



Death in a whiteness that 



curdled the blood, 

 Now black to the very heart: 



The wonder by her was formed 

 Who stands supreme in power; 



To show that life by the spirit comes 

 She gave us a soulless flower ! 



73 



