Classic Poem

Come, don't try your haughty ways on me here,
Leave them till the next ball, anyway!
We're outdoors now and it's good to be here,
Soft the moss and cool the shade to-day.

Let my head rest on your knees, my darling,
And be happy for an hour — so!
We've enough of quarreling and snarling;
Life's a weary uphill road to go.

I will be a savage, — that's the notion! —
Play the tyrant as a savage can;
You shall follow at the slightest motion,
I will be a rude primeval man.

I'll complain for any cause whatever,
Growl at meals no matter what you do:
" Call that a veal cutlet? — Well, that's clever!
Look, you cat, you've burnt the spinach, too. "

There'll be time enough, sweetheart, to see to
Woman's rights and all such petty strife.
Here the woods are free. Let us be free, too,
From the strenuous pedantry of life!

Let's pretend we live here in the forest,
Play we're Indians going out to war,
For our wigwam we can take the nearest
Barn, and I'll of course be sagamore.

Fierce or lazy is my disposition,
And my name is Miantonimah.
You shall come on every expedition,
Pale white maiden Tith-oh-Wah-ta-Wah.

When with blood my tomahawk is sated,
Comfortably on my back I'll lie,
With my rage for murder all abated
Take my ease or maybe catch a fly.

Tith-oh-Wah-ta-Wah must go a-trudging
After mice and worms to fill my maw,
She must fetch and carry, still be drudging,
Poor, poor little Tith-oh-Wah-ta-Wah!

She will spread the meal for me to eat, then,
With a giant fern for table-mat,
And for thanks beside the sachem's feet, then,
She may sit and watch him, like a cat.

When I've eaten of the food provided
By the Mighty Spirit, Manitou,
Then — as now — my head shall be confided
To your knees; my peaceful pillow, you.

Come, don't pull my hair out, I must scold you,
You disgrace me, Indian maiden wild.
It's all true, — the chief of whom I told you
And his wife, — I read it when a child.