Mount Utsayantha - Utsayantha's Legend

Utsayantha's Legend
by Eugene Bouton, Graduate of Stamford
Seminary, and was attending Yale
when this poem was written

I. A jewel sat around with emerald hills
Lake Utsayantha lies, where gathers first
The Delaware from sparkling mountain rills,
Not yet into that flood majestic burst
Which sweeps the Jersey shore and ocean fills.

Here came, one Autumn day as down the west
The sun was gliding fast, an Indian band;
And having made their wig wam camp, to rest
They early sank; save one, who sternly grand
Beside the campfire walked and smote his breast.

II. A quenchless passion like a tempest swept
The chieftain's soul. His fairest daughter long
Had loved a pale face and had secret kept
Her love, until one day its fatal song
An arrow sung and in death's arms he slept.

The warrior saw her pale face child, and felt
His spirit burn within. He long had fought
His people's fœ; and scarcely, when she knelt
And plead, her wondrous loveliness had brought
His hand to spare the blow it almost dealt.

III. The campfire died away, and dying lent
The chieftain's grief a calm; to trusty braves
He softly walked; then through their souls he sent
One look and pointing towards the moonlit waves
And toward the maiden's door he spoke and went.

Fair Utsayantha heard, and when they took
The infant from her arms she shed no tear;
She was a red man's child.
But one wild look
She cast upon the babe, that so severe
Fell on the braves that it their purpose shook.

IV. And when their steps grew faint, with stealthy tread
And like some moving shadow, weirdly wrought
She followed them until their pathway led
To where the ripples broke; then trembling sought
The water's edge and waited faint with dread.

She saw a white canoe glide from the shore;
She saw it pause half way across the lake
She saw a hand upraise her infant o'er
the wave; she heard a larger ripple break
She marked the spot, nor elsewhere looked she more.

V. And when their dying footsteps gave no sound,
She sought the white canoe, it glided out
Halfway across the lake; she drew around
Her close her robe, then breathed this prayer devout:
Great manitou, the blessed hunting ground
I seek, the way is long, and monsters frown;
Send me from out the spirit land a guide.

She plunged beneath the wave. and sank to drown;
The waters clsoed above; the pine trees sighed;
The pale Moon looked in silent pity down.

June, 1874 Yale Literary Magazine

New to the web site:

Mt. Utsayantha Poetry
Mt. Utsayantha View - written in 1897
Legend of Mt. Utsayantha 2