Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, INDIAN SUMMER, by ROLLIN L. SMITH


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INDIAN SUMMER, by            
First Line: Great white father! Won't you listen?
Last Line: Save us from the setting sun?
Subject(s): Native Americans; Indians Of America; American Indians; Indians Of South America


Great White Father! Won't you listen?
Hear our plea, for we are troubled;
You have said you always listen;
Hear how white men came among us
Broke our peace and burned our wigwams
Took the land we used to hunt on
Made us march toward the sunset
Promised they would give us shelter
Said that they would feed us plenty
If our war-whoops were abandoned
If our tomahawks were buried
So we left them far behind us
Ten days' march we made to prairies
Still they followed, and demanded
We continue marching longer
Always to the setting sun!
All the land they say is their land
So they lie to their red brothers
So they quarrel with our people
We can't smoke the peace-pipe with them
Great White Father! Won't you help to
Save us from the setting sun?





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