Hiawatha's Departure

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 Bow 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 Neither Goose Or Diver
Neither Pelican Nor Heron

O'er The Water Floating, Flying
Through The Shining Mist Of Morning


But A Birch Canoe With Paddles
Rising, Sinking In The Sunshine
Dripping, Flashing In The Sunshine

And Within It Came A People

The Song Of The Evening Star


Can It Be The Sun Descending
O'er The Level Plain Of Water

Or The Red Swan Floatin, Flying
Wounded By The Magic Arrow

Staining All The Waves With Crimson
With The Crimson Of Its Lifeblood

Filling All The Air With Splendour
Filling All The Air With Plumage

Yes, It Is The Sun Descending
Sinking Down Into The Water

All The Sky Is Stained With Purple
All The Water Flushed With Crimson!

No, It Is The Red Swan Floating
Diving Down Beneath The Water

To The Sky Its Wings Are Lifted
With Its Blood The Waves Are Reddened!

Over It The Star Of Evening
Melts And Trembles Through The Purple

Hangs Suspended In The Twilight
Walks In Silence Through The Heavens!