By The Shore Of Gitche Gumee

By The Shining Big-Sea-Water

At The Doorway Of The Wigwam

In The Early 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 Neighbouring Forest

Passed In Golden Swams, The Ahmo

Passed The Bees, The Honey-Makers

Burning, Singing In The Sunshine



Bright Above Him Shone The Heavens

Level Spread The Lake Before Him;

From Its Bosom Leaped The Sturgeon

Sparkling, Flashing In The Sunshine



On Its Margin The Great Forest

Stood Reflected In The Water

Every Tree-Top Had Its Shadow

Motionless Beneath The Water



From The Brow Of Hiawatha

Gone Was Every Trace Of Sorrow

As The Fog From Off The Water

As The Mist Of The Meadow



With A Smile Of Joy And Gladness

With A Look Of Exultation

As Of One Who In A Vision

Sees What Is To Be, But Is Not



Stood And Waited Hiawatha

Toward The Sun His Hands Were Lifted

Both The Palms Spread Out Towards It

And Between The Parted Fingers



Feel The Sunshine On His Features

Flecked With Light His Naked Shoulders

As It Falls And Flecks An Oak-Tree

Through The Rifted Leaves And Branches



O'er The Water Floating, Flying

Something In The Hazy Distance

Something In The Mist Of Morning

Loomed And Lifted From The Water

Now Seemed Floating, Now Seemed Flying

Coming Nearer, Nearer, Nearer

Was It Shingebis, The Diver?

Or The Pelican, The Shada?



Or The Heron, The Shuh-Shuh-Gah?

Or The White Goose, Waw-Be-Wawa,

With The Water Dripping, Flashing

From Its Glossy Neck And Feathers?



It Was