To the wigwam by the brooklet came the Princess
Oft at evening; told to Winganameo softly
How the English called her "Guardian Angel," loved her,
Gave her presents, daily asked her to their homes.
Winganameo nodded sagely as she listened,
But she spoke a word of warning to the Princess:
"Let not Pale Face bring unto you sorrow, Matoax;
As a mother I have watched you coming, going,
Princess born, 'tis many a warrior would wed you,
Better could you find a male among your own;
For the Pale Face is not of us, is a stranger;
Though he love you, he will leave you for his people,
And his home beyond the sea.
I have seen it,
Often have I seen it, watched him sail away
Nevermore returning.
Heed my words, O, Daughter!"

Pocahontas listened, but her lips replied not,
All her heart was mirrored in her dreaming eyes,
As she sat with folded hands beneath the shadow
Of mimosa branches with their pink-hued blossoms
Making fairy canopy above her head.

While they sat together in the twilight hour
Came to them a messenger direct from Jamestown,
Indian hunter, many a mile he'd walked to tell