Standing at the open doorway,
Long he looked at Hiawatha,
Looked with pity and On his wasted form and features,
And, in accents like the sighing
Of the South-Wind in the tree-tops,
Said he, "O my Hiawatha!
Long he looked at Hiawatha,
Looked with pity and On his wasted form and features,
And, in accents like the sighing
Of the South-Wind in the tree-tops,
Said he, "O my Hiawatha!
hisong12
