The Song of Hiawatha

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Ticknor and Fields, 1855 - Folklore - 316 pages
A narrative poem of the life and deeds of the legendary Hiawatha, son of the West Wind.

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Page 127 - As unto the bow the cord is, So unto the man is woman, Though she bends him, she obeys him, Though she draws him, yet she follows, Useless each without the other...
Page 41 - Running straight across the heavens, Crowded with the ghosts, the shadows. At the door on summer evenings Sat the little Hiawatha ; Heard the whispering of the pine-trees, Heard the lapping of the water, Sounds of music, words of wonder ; " Minne-wawa ! " said the pine-trees, " Mudway-aushka !
Page 39 - By the shores of Gitche Gumee, By the shining Big-Sea-Water, Stood the wigwam of Nokomis, Daughter of the Moon, Nokomis. Dark behind it rose the forest, Rose the black and gloomy pine-trees, Rose the firs with cones upon them; Bright before it beat the water, Beat the clear and sunny water, Beat the shining Big-Sea-Water.
Page 45 - Go, my son, into the forest, Where the red deer herd together, Kill for us a famous roebuck, Kill for us a deer with antlers ! " Forth into the forest straightway All alone walked Hiawatha Proudly, with his bow and arrows ; And the birds sang round him, o'er him, " Do not shoot us, Hiawatha !
Page 40 - Big-Sea-Water. There the wrinkled , old Nokomis Nursed the little Hiawatha, Rocked him in his linden cradle , Bedded soft in moss and rushes , Safely bound with reindeer sinews ; Stilled his fretful wail by saying, " Hush ! the Naked Bear will get thee ! " Lulled him into slumber, singing, "Ewa-yea! my little owlet!
Page 8 - Ye, who sometimes, in your rambles Through the green lanes of the country, Where the tangled barberry-bushes Hang their tufts of crimson berries Over stone walls gray with mosses, Pause by some neglected graveyard, For a while to muse, and ponder...
Page 17 - If his warnings pass unheeded, You will fade away and perish ! " Bathe now in the stream before you, Wash the war-paint from your faces, Wash the blood-stains from your fingers, Bury your war-clubs and your weapons, Break the red stone from this quarry, Mould and make it into PeacePipes, Take the reeds that grow beside you, Deck them with your brightest feathers, Smoke the calumet 'together, And as brothers live henceforward...
Page 44 - How the beavers built their lodges, Where the squirrels hid their acorns, How the reindeer ran so swiftly, Why the rabbit was so timid, Talked with them whene'er he met them, Called them
Page 263 - O the famine and the fever ! O the wasting of the famine ! O the blasting of the fever ! O the wailing of the children ! O the anguish of the women ! All the earth was sick and famished ; Hungry was the air around them, Hungry was the sky above them, And the hungry stars in heaven Like the eyes of wolves glared at them!

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