Night, moonless night! The forest hath no sound
But the low shiver of its dripping leaves,
Save here and there, amid its depths profound,
The sullen sigh the prowling panther heaves;
Save the fierce growling of the cubless bear,
Or tramp of gaunt wolf rushing from his lair,
Where its slow coil the poisonous serpent weaves:
Who dares the dangerous path at hour so wild,
With fleet and fawnlike step? Powhatan's fearless child!