The Song of Hiawatha   ::   Longfellow Henry Wadsworth

There he lay in all his armor;

On each side a shield to guard him,

Plates of bone upon his forehead,

Down his sides and back and shoulders

Plates of bone with spines projecting

Painted was he with his war-paints,

Stripes of yellow, red, and azure,

Spots of brown and spots of sable;

And he lay there on the bottom,

Fanning with his fins of purple,

As above him Hiawatha

In his birch canoe came sailing,

With his fishing-line of cedar.

"Take my bait," cried Hiawatha,

Dawn into the depths beneath him,

"Take my bait, O Sturgeon, Nahma!

Come up from below the water,

Let us see which is the stronger!"

And he dropped his line of cedar

Through the clear, transparent water,

Waited vainly for an answer,

Long sat waiting for an answer,

And repeating loud and louder,

"Take my bait, O King of Fishes!"

Quiet lay the sturgeon, Nahma,

Fanning slowly in the water,

Looking up at Hiawatha,

Listening to his call and clamor,

His unnecessary tumult,

Till he wearied of the shouting;

And he said to the Kenozha,

To the pike, the Maskenozha,

"Take the bait of this rude fellow,

Break the line of Hiawatha!"

In his fingers Hiawatha

Felt the loose line jerk and tighten,

As he drew it in, it tugged so

That the birch canoe stood endwise,

Like a birch log in the water,

With the squirrel, Adjidaumo,

Perched and frisking on the summit.