The Song of Hiawatha   ::   Longfellow Henry Wadsworth

"Gitche Manito, the Mighty,

The Great Spirit, the Creator,

Sends them hither on his errand.

Sends them to us with his message.

Wheresoe'er they move, before them

Swarms the stinging fly, the Ahmo,

Swarms the bee, the honey-maker;

Wheresoe'er they tread, beneath them

Springs a flower unknown among us,

Springs the White-man's Foot in blossom.

"Let us welcome, then, the strangers,

Hail them as our friends and brothers,

And the heart's right hand of friendship

Give them when they come to see us.

Gitche Manito, the Mighty,

Said this to me in my vision.

"I beheld, too, in that vision

All the secrets of the future,

Of the distant days that shall be.

I beheld the westward marches

Of the unknown, crowded nations.

All the land was full of people,

Restless, struggling, toiling, striving,

Speaking many tongues, yet feeling

But one heart-beat in their bosoms.

In the woodlands rang their axes,

Smoked their towns in all the valleys,

Over all the lakes and rivers

Rushed their great canoes of thunder.

"Then a darker, drearier vision

Passed before me, vague and cloud-like;

I beheld our nation scattered,

All forgetful of my counsels,

Weakened, warring with each other:

Saw the remnants of our people

Sweeping westward, wild and woful,

Like the cloud-rack of a tempest,

Like the withered leaves of Autumn!"



XXII

Hiawatha's Departure

By the shore of Gitche Gumee,

By the shining Big-Sea-Water,

At the doorway of his wigwam,

In the pleasant Summer morning,

Hiawatha stood and waited.

All the air was full of freshness,

All the earth was bright and joyous,

And before him, through the sunshine,

Westward toward the neighboring forest

Passed in golden swarms the Ahmo,

Passed the bees, the honey-makers,

Burning, singing In the sunshine.