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
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