The Complete Poems. Генри Уодсуорт Лонгфелло

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The Complete Poems - Генри Уодсуорт Лонгфелло

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from behind the curtain,

      Hear the rustling of her garments

      From behind the waving curtain,

      As one sees the Minnehaha

      Gleaming, glancing through the branches,

      As one hears the Laughing Water

      From behind its screen of branches?

       Who shall say what thoughts and visions

      Fill the fiery brains of young men?

      Who shall say what dreams of beauty

      Filled the heart of Hiawatha?

      All he told to old Nokomis,

      When he reached the lodge at sunset,

      Was the meeting with his father,

      Was his fight with Mudjekeewis;

      Not a word he said of arrows,

      Not a word of Laughing Water.

       Table of Contents

       Table of Contents

      You shall hear how Hiawatha

      Prayed and fasted in the forest,

      Not for greater skill in hunting,

      Not for greater craft in fishing,

      Not for triumphs in the battle,

      And renown among the warriors,

      But for profit of the people,

      For advantage of the nations.

       First he built a lodge for fasting,

      Built a wigwam in the forest,

      By the shining Big-Sea-Water,

      In the blithe and pleasant Spring-time,

      In the Moon of Leaves he built it,

      And, with dreams and visions many,

      Seven whole days and nights he fasted.

       On the first day of his fasting

      Through the leafy woods he wandered;

      Saw the deer start from the thicket,

      Saw the rabbit in his burrow,

      Heard the pheasant, Bena, drumming,

      Heard the squirrel, Adjidaumo,

      Rattling in his hoard of acorns,

      Saw the pigeon, the Omeme,

      Building nests among the pine-trees,

      And in flocks the wild-goose, Wawa,

      Flying to the fen-lands northward,

      Whirring, wailing far above him.

      "Master of Life!" he cried, desponding,

      "Must our lives depend on these things?"

       On the next day of his fasting

      By the river's brink he wandered,

      Through the Muskoday, the meadow,

      Saw the wild rice, Mahnomonee,

      Saw the blueberry, Meenahga,

      And the strawberry, Odahmin,

      And the gooseberry, Shahbomin,

      And the grape-vine, the Bemahgut,

      Trailing o'er the alder-branches,

      Filling all the air with fragrance!

      "Master of Life!" he cried, desponding,

      "Must our lives depend on these things?"

       On the third day of his fasting

      By the lake he sat and pondered,

      By the still, transparent water;

      Saw the sturgeon, Nahma, leaping,

      Scattering drops like beads of wampum,

      Saw the yellow perch, the Sahwa,

      Like a sunbeam in the water,

      Saw the pike, the Maskenozha,

      And the herring, Okahahwis,

      And the Shawgashee, the crawfish!

      "Master of Life!" he cried, desponding,

      "Must our lives depend on these things?"

       On the fourth day of his fasting

      In his lodge he lay exhausted;

      From his couch of leaves and branches

      Gazing with half-open eyelids,

      Full of shadowy dreams and visions,

      On the dizzy, swimming landscape,

      On the gleaming of the water,

      On the splendor of the sunset.

       And he saw a youth approaching,

      Dressed in garments green and yellow,

      Coming through the purple twilight,

      Through the splendor of the sunset;

      Plumes of green bent o'er his forehead,

      And his hair was soft and golden.

       Standing at the open doorway,

      Long he looked at Hiawatha,

      Looked with pity and compassion

      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!

      All your prayers are heard in heaven,

      For you pray not like the others;

      Not

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