The Blue Juniata

Wild roved an Indian girl, bright Alfarata,
Where sweeps the water of the blue Juniata;
Swift as an antelope through the forest going,
Loose were her jetty locks, in wavy tresses flowing.

Gay was the mountain song of bright Alfarata,
Where sweeps the water of the blue Juniata:
"Strong and true my arrows are in my painted quiver;
Swift goes my light canoe adown the rapid river.

"Bold is my warrior good, the love of Alfarata,
Proud waves his snowy plume along the Juniata;
Soft and low he speaks to me and then his war cry sounding,
Rings his voice in thunder loud, from height to height resounding."

So sang the Indian girl, bright Alfarata,
Where sweep the waters of the blue Juniata.
Fleeting years have borne away the voice of Alfarata;
Still sweeps the river on, blue Juniata.