Author Norman Macleod The Indians dance for tourist trade And speak an alien tongue,But dream of years and years ago When their tribe was young.With stolid pride and bitter heart They know the race is dying—Religion, a commercial right Gods are exercising. Tags Short Poems Rate this poem Select ratingGive it 1/5Give it 2/5Give it 3/5Give it 4/5Give it 5/5 No votes yet Rate Log in or register to post comments