marks her grave and on this stone is carved the one word "Pauline."
There she lies among ferns and wild flowers a short distance from
Siwash Rock, the story of which she has recorded in the legends of
her race. In time to come a pathway to her grave will be worn by
lovers of Canadian poetry who will regard it as one of the most
romantic of our literary shrines.



THE WHITE WAMPUM

(The following poems are from the author's first book, "The White
Wampum," first published in 1895.)



OJISTOH


I am Ojistoh, I am she, the wife
Of him whose name breathes bravery and life
And courage to the tribe that calls him chief.
I am Ojistoh, his white star, and he
Is land, and lake, and sky--and soul to me.

Ah! but they hated him, those Huron braves,
Him who had flung their warriors into graves,
Him who had crushed them underneath his heel,
Whose arm was iron, and whose heart was steel
To all--save me, Ojistoh, chosen wife