"
Hiawatha indeed remained not much longer with his people, for after
welcoming the Black-Robe chief, who told the elders of the nations of
the Virgin Mary and her blessed Son and Saviour, he launched his birch
canoe from the shores of Big-Sea-Water, and, departing westward,
Sailed into the fiery sunset,
Sailed into the purple vapours,
Sailed into the dusk of evening.
Hiawatha indeed remained not much longer with his people, for after
welcoming the Black-Robe chief, who told the elders of the nations of
the Virgin Mary and her blessed Son and Saviour, he launched his birch
canoe from the shores of Big-Sea-Water, and, departing westward,
Sailed into the fiery sunset,
Sailed into the purple vapours,
Sailed into the dusk of evening.
World's Greatest Books - Volume 17 - Poetry and Drama
Hiawatha! Hiawatha! "
And the desolate Hiawatha,
Miles away among the mountains,
Heard that sudden cry of anguish,
Heard the voice of Minnehaha
Calling to him in the darkness.
Over snowfields waste and pathless,
Under snow-encumbered branches,
Homeward hurried Hiawatha,
Empty-handed, heavy-hearted;
Heard Nokomis moaning, wailing,
"Would that I had perished for you,
Would that I were dead as you are! "
And he rushed into the wigwam,
Saw the old Nokomis slowly
Rocking to and fro and moaning,
Saw his lovely Minnehaha
Lying dead and cold before him;
And his bursting heart within him
Uttered such a cry of anguish
That the very stars in heaven
Shook and trembled with his anguish.
Then he sat down, still and speechless,
On the bed of Minnehaha.
Seven long days and nights he sat there,
As if in a swoon he sat there.
Then they buried Minnehaha;
In the snow a grave they made her,
In the forest deep and darksome.
"Farewell! " said he. "Minnehaha!
Farewell, O my Laughing Water!
All my heart is buried with you,
All my thoughts go onward with you!
Come not back again to labour,
Come not back again to suffer.
Soon my task will be completed,
Soon your footsteps I shall follow
To the Islands of the Blessed,
To the Kingdom of Ponemah,
To the Land of the Hereafter!
"
Hiawatha indeed remained not much longer with his people, for after
welcoming the Black-Robe chief, who told the elders of the nations of
the Virgin Mary and her blessed Son and Saviour, he launched his birch
canoe from the shores of Big-Sea-Water, and, departing westward,
Sailed into the fiery sunset,
Sailed into the purple vapours,
Sailed into the dusk of evening.
FOOTNOTES:
[U] In 1854 Longfellow resigned his professorship at Harvard.
"Evangeline" had been followed by "Kavanagh," a novel of no particular
merit, a cluster of minor poems, and in 1851 by the "Golden Legend,"
a singularly beautiful lyric drama, based on Hartmann van Aue's story
"Der arme Heinrichs. " Leaving the dim twilight of mediaeval Germany,
the poet brought his imagination to bear upon the Red Indian and his
store of legend. The result was the "Song of Hiawatha," in 1855. Both
in subject and in metre the poem is a conscious imitation of the
Finnish "Kalevala. " It was immensely popular on its appearance, Emerson
declaring it "sweet and wholesome as maize. " If the poem lacks veracity
as an account of savage life, it nevertheless overflows with the beauty
of the author's own nature, and is typical of those elements in his
poetry which have endeared his name to the English-speaking world. With
the exception of "Evangeline," it is the most popular of Longfellow's
works.
LUCRETIUS[V]
On the Nature of Things
_I. --The Invocation and the Theme_
Mother of Romans, joy of men and gods,
Kind Venus, who 'neath gliding signs of heaven
Dost haunt the main where sail our argosies,
Dost haunt the land that yieldeth crops of grain,
Since 'tis of thee that every kind of breath
Is born and riseth to behold the light;
Before Thee, Lady, flit the winds; and clouds
Part at thine advent, and deft-fingered earth
Yields Thee sweet blooms; for Thee the sea hath smiles,
And heaven at peace doth gleam with floods of light.
Soon as the fair spring face of day is shown
And zephyr kind to birth is loosed in strength;
First do the fowls of air give sign of Thee,
Lady, and of Thy entrance, smit at heart
By power of Thine. Then o'er the pastures glad
The wild herds bound, and swim the rapid streams.
Thy glamour captures them, and yearningly
They follow where Thou willest to lead on.
Yea, over seas and hills and sweeping floods,
And leafy homes of birds and grassy leas,
Striking fond love into the heart of all,
Thou mak'st each race desire to breed its kind.
Since Thou dost rule alone o'er nature's realm,
Since without Thee naught wins the hallowed shores
Of light, and naught is glad, and naught is fair,
Fain would I crave Thine aid for poesy
Which seeks to grasp the essence of the world.