Mount Utsayantha - Legend of Mount Utsayantha

Legend of Mount Utsayantha

No Title, probably written in the 1890's
Author: M. J.

When the red man of the forest
Proudly claimed both lake and hill,
A chieftain's daughter, Utsayantho,
Bounded free o'er mount and rill.

And her white canoe she guided
o'er the lake, from shore to shore,
While the chieftain proudly watched her
From his shaded wigwam door.

For of all the Indian maidens,
None, in beauty, could compare
With the blooming Utsayantho,
Whose life flowed free from fear or care.

Perfect were her dusty features,
Strangely soft her large black eye,
And her hair of midnight darkness
Floated, as the breeze passed by.

On a rosy summer morning,
At the earliest peep of day,
In great haste the Indian warriors
Mounted steeds and rode away.

And the tramp of hurrying horses
Sounded on the calm, still air,
As adown the sloping mountain
A hundred steeds their riders bear.

Utsayantho listened, trembling,
Till the last faint echo died,
And a solemn silence settled
O'er the forest dim and wide.

O'er that long, long day she lingered,
On the mountain’s southern slope,
Listening to the distant war whoop,
Which filled her heart with fear or hope.

For among those aged warriors
Was one brave and handsome youth;
Utsayantho's promised lover –
Famed for beauty, valor, truth.

When the night her sable mantle,
Through around the lake and trees,
And the waves were softly sighing
To the passing evening breeze.

Homeward came the Indian warriors,
Bearing scalps as trophies rare,
But the Indian maidens lover –
Brave Wachusett – was not there.

Dead upon the field of battle
Lay that young and noble brave;
Utsayantho's love and sorrow
Could not avail his life to save.

As the warriors climbed the mountain,
Turned a curve – came full in sight,
Eagerly she scanned their faces
By the rising moon's pale light.

There she read the mournful story
That her lover ne'er would wake.
Then, with a piercing scream she vanished
Toward the borders of the lake.

On she fled o'er brush and bramble,
Heeding not her father's cry,
Till she reached the rock, projecting
O'er the lake – which seemed to sigh:

'Hither come, oh, Utsayantho!
Fling thy troubles 'neath my wave,
Here thou mayest forget thy sorrow
In a tranquil watery grave.

Heeded was the invitation
Of the moonlit waves so fair,
And still they tell, in murmuring music,
Of an Indian maiden sleeping there.

New to the web site:

Mt. Utsayantha Poetry
Mt. Utsayantha View - written in 1897
Legend of Mt. Utsayantha 1