Female Song
My love is a hunter—he hunts the fleet deer,
With fusil or arrow, one-half of the year;
He hunts the fleet deer over mountain and lea,
But his heart is still hunting for love and for me.
My love is a warrior; when warriors go,
With fusil or arrow, to strike the bold foe,
He treads the bright war-path with step bold and free,
But still his thoughts wander to love and to me.
But hunter or warrior, where’er he may go,
To track the swift deer, or to follow the foe,
His heart’s warm desire, field and forest still flee,
To go hunting his love, and make captive of me.