SÉANCE AT SUNRISE
Place the new handsIn the old handsOf the old generation,And let us tilt tablesIn the high roomOf our imagination.
Let the thick veil glow thin,At sunrise—at sunrise—Let the strange eyes peer in,The red, the black, and the white facesOf the still living deadOf the three races.
Let a quaint voice begin:
Voice of an Indian"Gone from the land,We leave the music of our names,As pleasant as the sound of... more...