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Then uprose the Laughing Water,

To the steps of Laughing Water. From the ground fair Minnehaha,

Over wide and rushing rivers Laid aside her mat unfinished,

In his arms he bore the maiden ; Bronght forth food and set before them,

Light he thought her as a feather, Water bronght them from the brooklet,

As the plume upon his head-gear'; Gave them food in carthen vessels,

('leared the tangled pathway for her, Gave them drink in bowls of bass-wood,

Bent aside the swaying branches, Listened while the guest was speaking,

Made at night a lodge of branches, Listened while her father answered,

And a bed with boughs of hemlock, But not once her lips she opened,

And a fire before the doorway Not a single word she uttered.

With the dry cones of the pine-tree. Yes, as in a dreain she listened

All the travelling winds went with them, To the words of Hiawatha,

O'er the meadow, through the forest; As he talked of old Nokomis,

All the stars of night looked at them, Who had nursed him in his childhood,

Watched with sleepless eyes their slumber: As he told of his companions,

From his ambush in the oak-tree Chibiabos, the musician,

Peeped the squirrel Adjidanmo, And the very strong man, Kwasind,

Watched with eager eyes the lovers; And of happiness and plenty

And the rabbit, the Wabasso, In the land of the Ojibways,

Scampered from the path before them, In the pleasant land and peaceful.

Peering, peeping from his burrow, “After many years of warfare,

Sat erect upon his haunches, Many years of strife and bloodshed,

Watched with curious eyes the lovers: There is peace between the Ojibways

Pleasant was the journey homeward! And the tribe of the Dacotahs."

All the birds sang loud and sweetly Thus continued Hiawatha,

Songs of happiness and heart's-ease ; And then added, speaking slowly,

Sang the blue-bird, the Owaissa, "That this peace may last for ever,

" Happy are you, Hiawatha, And our hands be claspeel more closely,

Having such a wife to love you!" And our hearts be more united,

Sang the robin, the Opechee, Give me as my wife this maiden,

* Happy are you, Laughing Water, Minnehaha, Laughing Water,

Having such a noble husband!" Loveliest of Dacotah women!"

From the sky the sun benignant And the ancient Arrow-maker

Looked upon them through the branches, Paused a moment ere he answered,

Saying to them, “O my children, Smoked a little while in silence,

Love is sunshine, hate is shadow, Looked at Hiawatha proudly,

Life is chequered shade and sunshine, Fondly looked at Laughing Water,

Rule by love, O Hiawatha !" And made answer very gravely:

From the sky the moon looked at them, "Yes, if Minnehaha wishes;

Filled the lodge with mystic splendours, Let your heart speak, Minnehaha!"

Whispered to them, “O my children, And the lovely Laughing Water

Day is restless, night is quiet, Seemed more lovely as she stood there,

Man imperious, woman feeble ; Neither willing nor reluctant,

Half is mine, although I follow; As she went to Hiawatha,

Rule by patience, Laughing Water!" Softly took the seat beside hiin,

Thus it was they journeyed homeward; While she said, and blushed to say it,

Thus it was that Hiawatha "I will follow you, my husband!**

To the lodge of Old Nokomis This was Hiawatha's wooing!

Brought the moonlight, starlight, firelight, Thus it was he won the daughter

Bronght the sunshine of his people, Of the ancient Arrow-maker,

Minnehaha, Laughing Water, In the land of the Dacotahs!

Handsomest of all the women From the wigwam he departed,

In the land of the Dacotahs,
Leading with him Laughing Water;

In the land of handsome women
Hand in hand they went together,
Through the woodland and the meadow,
Left the old man standing lonely
At the doorway of his wigwam,

XI.
Heard the falls of Minnehaha

HIAWATHA'S WEDDING-FEAST. Calling to them from the distance, Crying to them from afar off.

You shall hear how Pan-Puk-Keewis, “Fare thee well, O Minnehaha!"

How the handsome Yenadizze And the ancient Arrow-maker

Danced at Hiawatha's wedding; Turned again unto his labour,

How the gentle Chibiabos, Sat down by his sunny doorway,

He the sweetest of musicians, Murmuring to himsell, and saying:

Sang his songs of love and longing; Thus it is our daughters leave us,

How Iagoo, the great boaster, Those we love, and those who love us!

He the marvellous story-teller, Just when they have learned to help us,

Told his tale of strange adventure, When we are old and lean upon them,

That the feast might be more joyons, Comes a youth with flaunting feathers,

That the time might pass more gayly, With his flute of reeds, a stranger

And the guests be more contented. Wanders piping through the village,

Sumptuous was the feast Nokomis Beckons to the fairest maiden,

Made at Hiawatha's wedding; And she follows where he leads her,

All the bowls were made of bass-wood, Leaving all things for the stranger!'

White and polished very smoothly. Pleasant was the journey homeward,

All the spoons of horn of bison. Through interminable forests,

Black and polished very smoothly, Over meadow, over mountain,

She had sent through all the village Over river, hill, and hollow.

Messengers with wands of willow, Short It seemed to Hiawatha,

As a sign of invitation,
Though they journeyed very slowly,

As a token of the feasting;
Though his pace he checked and slackened | And the wedding guests assembled,

eding the le cara

Clad in all their richest raiment,

Till the dust and wind together Robes of fur and belts of wampum,

Swept in eddies round about him. Splendid with their paint and plumage,

Then along the sandy margin Beautiful with beads and tassels.

Of the lake, the Big-Sea-water, First they ate the sturgeon, Nahma,

On he sped with frenzied gestures, And the pike, the Maskenozha,

Stamped upon the sand, and tossed it Caught and cooked by old Nokomis;

Wildly in the air around him; Then on pemican they feasted,

Till the wind became a whirlwind, Pemican and buffalo marrow,

Till the sand was blown and sifted Haunch of deer and hump of bison,

Like great snowdrifts e'er the landscape, Yellow cakes of the Mondamin,

Heaping all the shores with Sand Dunes, And the wild rice of the river.

Sand Hills of the Nagow Wudjoo! But the gracious Hiawatha,

Thus the merry Pau-Puk-Keewis, And the lovely Laughing Water,

Danced his Beggar's Dance to please them, And the careful old Nokomis,

And, returning, sat down laughing, Tasted not the food before them,

There among the guests assembled, Only waited on the others,

Sat and fanned himself serenely Only served their guests in silence.

With his fan of turkey-feathers. And when all the guests had finished,

Then they said to Chibiabos, Old Nokomis, brisk and busy,

To the friend of Hiawatha, From an ample pouch of otter,

To the sweetest of all singers, Filled the red stone pipes for smoking

To the best of all musicians, With tobacco from the South-land,

"Sing to us, O Chibiabos! Mixed with bark of the red willow,

Songs of love and songs of longing, And with herbs and leaves of fragrance.

That the feast may be more joyous, Then she said, “O Pau-Puk-Keewis,

That the time may pass more gayly, Dance for us your merry dances,

And our guests be more contented!" Dance the Beggar's Dance to please us,

And the gentle Chibiabos That the feast may be more joyous,

Sang in accents sweet and tender, That the time may pass more gayly,

Sang in tones of deep emotion, And our guests be more contented!"

Songs of love and songs of longing; Then the handsome Pau-Puk-Keewis,

Looking still at Hiawatha He the idle Yenadizze,

Looking at fair Laughing Water, He the merry mischief-maker,

Sang he softly, sang in this wise : Whom the people called the Storm-Fool,

"Onaway! Awake, beloved ! Rose among the guests assembled.

Thou the wild-flower of the forest! Skilled was he in sports and pastiines,

Thou the wild-bird of the prairie ! In the merry dance of snow-shoes.

Thou with eyes so soft and fawn-like.! In the play of quoits and ball-pluy';

"If thou only lookest at me, Skilled was he in games of hazard,

I am happy, I am happy, In all games of skill and hazard,

As the lilies of the prairie, Purgasaing, the Bowl and Counters.

When they feel the dew upon them! Kuntasso, the Game of Plum-stones.

"Sweet thy breath is as the fragrance Though the warriors called him Faint-Heart, Of the wild flowers in the morning, Called him coward, Shaugodaya,

As their fragrance is at evening, Idler, gambler, Yenadizze,

In the Moon when leaves are falling. Little heeded he their jesting,

“Does not all the blood within me Little cared he for their insults,

Leap to meet thee, leap to meet thee, For the women and the maidens

As the springs to meet the sunshine, Loved the handsome Pau-Puk-Keewis.

In the Moon when nights are brightest? He was dressed in skirt of doe-skin.

"Onaway! my heart sings to thee, White and soft, and fringed with crimine,

Sings with joy when thou art near nie, All inwrought with beads of wampu;

As the sighing, singing branches He was dressed in deer-skin leggings,

In the pleasant Moon of Strawberries! Fringed with hedgehog quills and ermine,

" When thou art not pleased, beloved, And in moccasins of buckskin,

Then my heart is sad and darkened, Thick with quills and beads embroidered.

As the shining river darkens On his head were plumes of swan's down,

When the clouds drop shadows on it! On his heels were tails of foxes,

" When thou smilest, my beloved, In one hand a fan of feathers,

Then my troubled heart is brightened, And a pipe was in the other.

As in sunshine gleam the ripples Barred with streaks of red and yellow,

That the cold wind makes in rivers, Streaks of blue and bright vermilion,

Smiles the earth, and smile the waters, Shone the face of Pall-Puk-Keewis,

Sinile the cloudless skies above lis, From his forehead fell his tresses,

But I lose the way of smiling Smooth and parted like a woman's,

When thou art no longer near me ! Shining bright with oil, and plaited,

"I myself, myself! behold me! Hung with braids of scented grasses,

Blood of my beating heart, behold me! As among the guests assembled,

O awake, awake, beloved! To the sound of flutes and singing,

Onaway! awake, beloved!" To the sound of druns and voices,

Thus the gentle Chibiabos Rose the handsome Pati-Puk-Keewis,

Sang his song of love and longing! And began his mystic dances.

And Iagoo, the great boaster, First he danced a solemn measure,

He the marvellons story-teller, Very slow in step and gesture,

He the friend of old Nokomis, In and out among the pine-trees,

Jealons of the sweet musician, Through the shadows and the sunshine,

Jealous of the applause they gave him, Treading softly like a panther.

Saw in all the eyes around him, Then more swiftly and still swifter,

Saw in all their looks and gestures, Whirling, spinning round in circles,

That the wedding guests assembleil Leaping o'er the guests assembled,

Longed to hear his pleasant stories, Eddying round and round the wigwam,

His immeasurable falsehoods. Till the leaves went whirling with him,

Very boastful was lagoo;

Never heard he an adventure

You shall hear a tale of wonder, But himself had met a greater;

Hear the story of Osseo ! Never any deed of daring

Son of the Evening Star Osseo! But himself had done a bolder;

“Once, in days no more remembered, Never any marvellous story

Ages nearer the beginning, But himself could tell a stranger.

When the heavens were closer to us, Would you listen to his boasting,

And the Gods were most familiar, Would you only give him credence,

In the North-land lived a hunter, No one ever shot an arrow

With ten young and comely daughters Half so far and high as he had;

Tall and lithe as wands of willow; Ever caught so many fishes,

Only Oweenee, the youngest, Ever killed so many reindeer,

She the wilful and the wayward, Ever trapped so many beaver!

She the silent, dreamy maiden, None could run so fast as he could,

Was the fairest of the sisters. None could dive so deep as he could,

“ All these women married warriors, None could swim so far as he could;

Married brave and haughty husbands; None had made so many journeys,

Only Oweenee, the youngest, None had seen so many wonders,

Laughed and flouted all her lovers, As this wonderful lagoo,

All her young and handsome suitors, As this marvellous story-teller;

And then married old Osseo, Thus his name became a by-word

Old Osseo, poor and ugly, And a jest among the people;

Broken with age and weak with coughing, And whene'er a boastful hunter

Always coughing like a squirrel. Praised his own address too highly.

"Ah, but beantiful within him Or a warrior, home returning,

Was the spirit of Osseo, Talked too much of his achievements,

From the Evening Star descended, All his hearers cried, " Iagoo!

Star of Evening, Star of Woman, Here's Iagoo come among us!"

Star of tenderness and passion! He it was who carved the cradle

All its fire was in his bosom, Of the little Hiawatha,

All its beauty in his spirit, Carved its framework out of linden,

All its mystery in his being, Bound it strong with reindeir sinews;

All its splendour in its language ! He it was who taught him later

“And her lovers, the rejected, How to make his bows and arrows,

Handsome men with belts of wampum, How to make the bows of ash-tree,

Handsome men with paint and feathers, And the arrows of the oak-tree.

Pointed at her in derision, So among the guests assembled

Followed her with jest and laughter. At my Hiawatha's wedding

But she said: 'I care not for you, Sat lagoo, old and ugly,

Care not for your belts of wampum, Sat the marvellous story-teller.

Care not for your paint and feathers, And they said, “O good lagoo,

Care not for your jests and laughter; Tell us now a tale of wonder,

I am happy with Osseo !' Tell us of some strange adventure,

"Once to some great feast invited, That the feast may be more joyous,

Through the damp and dusk of evening That the time may pass more gayly,

Walked together the ten sisters, And our guests be more contented!"

Walked together with their husbands; And Iagoo answered straightway,

Slowly followed old Osseo, “ You shall hear a tale of wonder,

With fair Oweenee beside him; You shall hear the strange adventures

All the others chatted gayly, Of Osseo, the Magician,

These two only walked in silence.
From the Evening Star descended."

"At the western sky Osseo
Gazed intent, as if imploring,
Often stopped and gazed imploring

At the trembling Star of Evening,
XII.

At the tender Star of Woman;
THE SON OF THE EVENING STAR.

And they heard him murmur softly,

"Ah, showain nemeshin, Noso! Can it be the sun descending

Pity, pity me, my father!' O'er the level plain of water?

"Listen!' said the eldest sister, Or the Red Swan floating, flying,

He is praying to his father! Wounded by the magic arrow,

What a pity that the old man Staining all the waves with crimson,

Does not stumble in the pathway, With the crimson of its life-blood,

Does not break his neck by falling!

13 Filling all the air with splendour,

And they laughed till all the forest With the splendour of its plumage?

Rang with their unseemly laughter. Yes; it is the sun descending,

"On their pathway through the woodland Sinking down into the water;

Lay an oak, by storms uprooted, All the sky is stained with purple,

Lay the great trunk of an oak-tree, All the water flushed with crimson !

Buried half in leaves and mosses, No; it is the Red Swan floating,

Mouldering, crumbling, huge and hollow. Diving down beneath the water;

And Osseo, when he saw it, To the sky its wings are lifted,

Gave a shout, a cry of anguish, With its blood the waves are reddened!

Leaped into its yawning cavern, Over it the Star of Evening

At one end went in an old man, Melts and trembles through the purple,

Wasted, wrinkled, old, and ugly; Hangs suspended in the twilight.

From the other came a young man, No; it is a bead of Wampum

Tall and straight and strong and handsome. On the robes of the Great Spirit,

"Thus Osseo was transfigured, As he passes through the twilight,

Thus restored to youth and beauty; Walks in silence througin the heavens!

But, alas for good Osseo, This with joy beheld lagoo,

And for Oweenee, the faithful ! And he said in haste: “Behold it!

Strangely, too, was she transfigured See the sacred Star of Evening!

Changed into a weak old woman,

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With a staff she tottered onward,

"Only Oweenee, the youngest, Wasted, wrinkled, old, and ugly!

Was not changed, but sat in silence, And the sisters and their husbands

Wasted, wrinkled, old, and ugly, Laughed until the echoing forest

Looking sadly at the others; Rang with their unseemly laughter.

Till Osseo, gazing upward, * But Osseo turned not from her,

Gave another cry of anguish, Walked with slower step beside her,

Such a cry as he had uttered Took her hand, as brown and withered

By the oak-tree in the forest.' As an oak-leaf is in Winter,

"Then returned her youth and beauty, Called ker sweetheart, Nenemoosha,

And her soiled and tattered garments Soothed her with soft words of kindness,

Were transformed to robes of ermine, Till they reached the lodge of feasting,

And her staff became a feather, Till they sat down in the wigwam,

Yes, a shining silver feather! Sacred to the Star of Evening,

"And again the wigwam trembled, To the tender Star of Woman.

Swayed and rushed through airy currents, " Wrapt in visions, lost in dreaming,

Through transparent cloud and vapour, At the banquet sat Osseo;

And amid celestial splendours All were merry, all were happy,

On the Evening Star alighted, All were joyous but Osseo.

As a snow-flake falls on snow-flake, Neither food nor drink he tasted,

As a leaf drops on a river, Neither did he speak nor listen,

As the thistle-down on water. But as one bewildered sat he,

• Forth with cheerful words of welcome Looking dreamily and sadly,

Came the father of Osseo, First at Oweenee, then upward

He with radiant locks of silver, At the gleaming sky above them.

He with eyes serene and tender. “Then a voice was heard, a whisper,

And he said: 'My son, Osseo, Coming from the starry distance,

Hang the cage of birds you bring there, Coming from the empty vastness,

Hang the cage with rods of silver, Low, and musical, and tender;

And the birds with glistening feathers, And the voice said : 0 Ossco!

At the doorway of my wigwam.' O my son, my best beloved !

“At the door he hung the bird-cage, Broken are the spells that bound you,

And they entered in and gladly All the charms of the magicians,

Listened to Osseo's father, All the magic powers of evil;

Ruler of the Star of Evening, Come to me; ascend, Osseo!

As he said: O my Osseo! " Taste the food that stands before you; I have had compassion on you, It is blessed and enchanted,

Given you back your youth and beauty, It has magic virtues in it,

Into birds of various plumage It will change you to a spirit.

Changed your sisters and their husbands: All your bowls and all your kettles

Changed them thus because they mocked you, Shall be wood and clay no longer ;

In the figure of the old man, But the bowls be changed to wampum,

In that aspect sad and wrinkled, And the kettles shall be silver;

Could not see your heart of passion, They shall shine like shells of scarlet,

Could not see your youth immortal'; Like the fire shall gleam and glimmer.

Only Oweenee, the faithful, And the women shall no longer

Saw your naked heart and loved you. Bear the dreary doom of labour,

". In the lodge that glimmers yonder, But be changed to birds, and glisten

In the little star that twinkles With the beauty of the starlight,

Through the vapours, on the left hand, Painted with the dusky splendours

Lives the envious Evil Spirit, of the skies and clouds of evening!

The Wabeno, the magician, * What Osseo heard as whispers,

Who transformed you to an old man. What as words he comprehended,

Take heed lest his beams fall on you, Was but music to the others,

For the rays he darts around him Music as of birds afar off,

Are the power of his enchantment, Of the Whippoorwill afar off,

Are the arrows that he uses.' of the lonely Wawonaissa

"Many years, in peace and quiet, Singing in the darksome forest.

On the peaceful Star of Evening * Then the lodge began to tremble,

Dwelt Osseo with his father; Straight began to shake and tremble,

Many years, in song and flutter, And they felt it rising, rising,

At the doorway of the wigwam, Slowly through the air ascending,

Hung the cage with rods of silver, From the darkness of the tree-tops

And fair Oweenee, the faithful, Forth into the dewy starlight,

Bore a son into Osseo, Till it past the topmost branches;

With the beanty of his mother, And behold! the wooden dishes

With the courage of his father, All were changed to shells of scarlet!

"And the boy grew up and prospered, And behold! the earthen kettles

And Osseo, to delight him, All were changed to bowls of silver

Made him little bows and arrows, And the roof-poles of the wigwam

Opened the great cage of silver, Were as glittering rods of silver,

And let loose his aunts and uncles, And the roof of bark upon them

And those birds with glossy feathers, As the shining shards of beetles.

For his little son to shoot at. * Then Osseo gazed around him,

"Round and round they wheeled and darted, And he saw the nine fair sisters,

Filled the Evening Star with music, All the sisters and their husbands,

With their songs of joy and freedom; Changed to birds of various plumage.

Filled the Evening Star with splendour, Some were jays and some were magpies,

With the fluttering of their plumage; Others thrushes, others blackbirds:

Till the boy, the little hunter, And they hopped, and sang, and twittered,

Bent his bow and shot an arrow, Perked and Anttered all their feathers,

Shot a swift and fatal arrow, Strutted in their shining plumage,

And a bird, with shining feathers, And their tails like fans unfolded.

At his feet fell wounded sorely.

of the lo in the date began ind trei

Stair on into of his

Striked and ded, and sanlackbi

"But, О wondrous transformation!

O my sweetheart, my Algonquin! Twas no bird he saw before him,

" When I think of my beloved, 'Twas a beautiful young woman,

Ah me! think of my beloved, With the arrow in her bosom!

When iny heart is thinking of him, "When her blood fell on the planet,

O my sweetheart, my Algonquin!" On the sacred Star of Evening,

Such was Hiawatha's Wedding, Broken was the spell of magic,

Such the dance of Pau-Pak-Keewis, Powerless was the strange enchantment,

Such the story of Iagoo, And the youth, the fearless bowinan,

Such the song of Chibiabos; Suddenly felt himself descending,

Thus the wedding barquet ended, Held by unseen hands, but sinking

And the wedding guests departed,
Downward through the empty spaces,

Leaving Hiawatha hapiiy
Downward through the clouds and vapours, With the night and Minnehaha.
Till he rested on an island,
On an island green and grassy,
Yonder in the Big-Sea-Water.
"After him he saw descending

XIII.
All the birds with shining feathers,

BLESSING TIIE CORN-FIELDS. Fluttering, falling, wafted downward, Like the painted leaves of Autumn;

SING, O song of Hiawatha, And the lodge with poles of silver,

Of the happy days that followed, With its roof like wings of beetles,

In the land of the Ojibways, Like the shining shards of beetles,

In the pleasant land and peaceful! By the winds of heaven uplifted

Sing the mysteries of Mondamin, Slowly sank upon the island,

Sing the Blessing of the Cornfields ! Bringing back the good Osseo,

Buried was the bloody hatchet, Bringing Oweenee, the faithful.

Buried was the dreadful war-club, "Then the birds again transfigured,

Buried were all warlike weapons, Reassumed the shape of mortals,

And the war-cry was forgotten Took their shape, but not their stature.

There was peace among the nations ; They remained as Little People,

Cnmolested roved the hunters, Like the pigmies, the Puk-Wudjies,

Built the birch-canoe for sailing, And on pleasant nights of Summer,

Caught the fish in lake and river, When the Evening Star was shining,

Shot the deer and trapped the beaver Hand in hand they danced together

Unmolested worked the women, On the island's craggy head-lands,

Made their sngar from the maple, On the sand-beach low and level.

Gathered wild rice in the meadows, "Still their glittering lodge is seen there,

Dressed the skins of deer and beaver. On the tranquil Summer evenings,

All aronnd the happy village And upon the shore the fisher

Stood the maize-fields, green and shining, Sometimes hears their happy voices,

Waved the green plumes of Mondainin, Sees them dancing in the starlight!"

Waved his soft and sunny tresses, When the story was completed,

Filling all the land with plenty, When the wondrous tale was ended,

'Twas the women who in Spring-time Looking round upon his listeners,

Planted the broad fields and fruitful, Solemnly lagoo added:

Buried in the earth Mondamin; There are great men, I have known such, 'Twas the women who in Autumn Whom their people understand not,

Stripped the yellow husks of harvest, Whom they even make a jest of,

Stripped the garments from Mondamin, Scoff and jeer at in derision.

Even as Hiawatha taught them. From the story of Osseo

Once, when all the maize was planted, Let them learn the fate of jesters."

Hiawatha, wise and thoughtful, All the wedding guests delighted

Spake and said to Minnehaha, Listened to the marvellous story,

To his wife, the Laughing Water: Listened laughing and applauding,

** You shall bless to-night the corn-fields, And they whispered to each other:

Draw a magic circle round them, Does he mean himself, I wonder?

To protect them from destruction, And are we the aunts and uncles?"

Blast of mildew, blight of insect, Then again sang Chibiabos,

Wagemin, the thief of corn-fields, Sang a song of love and longing,

Paimosaid. who steals the maize-ear! In those accents sweet and tender,

"In the night, when all is silence, In those tones of pensive sadness,

When the Spirit of Sleep, Nephamin, Sang a maiden's lamentation,

Shuts the door of all the wigwams, For her lover, her Algonquin !

So that not an ear can hear yoll, When I think of my beloved,

So that not an eye can see you, "Ah me! think of my beloved,

Rise up from your bed in silence, When my heart is thinking of 'him,

Lay aside your garments wholly, O my sweetheart, my Algonquin !

Walk around the fields you planted, * Ah me! when I parted from him,

Round the borders of the corn-fields, Round my neck he hung the wampum,

Covered by your tresses only. As a pledge, the snow-white wampum,

Robed with darkness as a garment. O my sweetheart, my Algonquin,

“Thus the fields shall be more fruitful, "I will go with you, he whispered,

And the passing of your footsteps Ah me! to your native country;

Draw a magic circle round them, Let me go with you, he whispered,

So that neither blight nor wildew, O my sweetheart, my Algonquin !

Neither burrowing worm nor insect, "Far away, away, I answered,

Shall pass o'er the magic circle ; Very far away, I answered,

Not the dragon-fly, Kwo-ne-she, Ah me! is my native country,

Nor the spider, Subbekashe, O my sweetheart, my Algonqnin !

Nor the grasshopper, Pan-puk-keena, * When I looked back to behold him,

Nor the mighty caterpillar, Where we parted, to behold him,

Way-muk-kwana, with the bear-skin, After me he still was gazing,

King of all the caterpillars!"

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