By the rushing in the Spring-time,

By the alders in the Summer,
By the white fog in the Autumn,
By the black line in the Winter;
And beside them dwelt the singer,
In the vale of Tawasentha,
In the green and silent valley.
There he sang of Hiawatha,
Sang the song of Hiawatha,
Sang his wondrous birth and being,
How he prayed, and how he fasted,
How he lived and toiled and suffered,
That the tribes of men might prosper,
That he might advance his people."

THE DEPARTURE OF HIAWATHA. Then the Black-Robe chief, the prophet, Told his message to the people, Told the purport of his mission, Told them of the Virgin Mary, And her blessed Son, the Saviour; How in distant lands and ages He had lived on earth as we do; How he fasted, prayed, and labored; How the Jews- the tribe accursedMocked him, scourged him, crucified him; How he rose from where they laid him, Walked again with his disciples, And ascended into heaven.

And the chief made answer, saying: "We have listened to your message, We have heard your words of wisdom, We will think of what you tell us. It is well for us, O brothers, That you come so far to see us!"

Then they rose up and departed. Each one homeward to his wigwam; To the young men and the women Told the story of the stranger

Whom the Master of Life had sent them From the shining land of Wabun.

Heavy with the heat and silence Grew the afternoon of Summer; With a drowsy sound the forest

Whispered round the sultry wigwam;
With a sound of sleep the water
Rippled on the beach below it;

From the cornfields shrill and ceaseless
Sang the grasshopper, Paupukkeena;
And the guests of Hiawatha,
Weary with the heat of Summer,
Slumbered in the sultry wigwam.

Slowly o'er the simmering landscape
Fell the evening's dusk and coolness,
And the long and level sunbeams
Shot their spears into the forest,
Breaking through its shields of shadow,
Rushed into each secret ambush,
Searched each thicket, dingle, hollow;
Still the guests of Hiawatha
Slumbered in the silent wigwam.

From his place rose Hiawatha,

Bade farewell to old Nokomis,

Spake in whispers, spake in this wise, Did not wake the guests that slumbered:

"I am going, O Nokomis,

On a long and distant journey
To the portals of the Sunset,
To the regions of the home-wind,
Of the northwest wind Keewaydin.
But these guests I leave behind me,
In your watch and ward I leave them;
See that never harm comes near them,
See that never fear molests them;

Never danger or suspicion,
Never want of food or shelter,

In the lodge of Hiawatha."

Forth into the village went he, Bade farewell to all the warriors, Bade farewell to all the young men ;

Spake persuading, spake in this wise:
"I am going, O my people,

On a long and distant journey.
Many moons and many winters

:

Will have come and will have vanished
Ere I come again to see you.
But my guests I leave behind me;
Listen to their words of wisdom,
Listen to the truth they tell you;

For the Master of Life has sent them
From the land of light and morning."

On the shore stood Hiawatha,
Turned and waved his hand at parting;
On the clear and luminous water
Launched his birch canoe for sailing;
From the pebbles of the margin
Shoved it forth into the water;
Whispered to it, "Westward! Westward!"
And with speed it darted forward.

And the evening sun descending
Set the clouds on fire with redness;
Burned the broad sky, like a prairie,
Left upon the level water

One long track and trail of splendor,
Down whose stream, as down a river,
Westward, westward, Hiawatha
Sailed into the fiery sunset,
Sailed into the purple vapors,
Sailed into the dusk of evening.
And the people from the margin
Watched him floating, rising, sinking,
Till the birch canoe seemed lifted
High into that sea of splendor,
Till it sank into the vapors,

Like the new moon, slowly, slowly,

Sinking in the purple distance.

And they said, "Farewell forever!"

Said, "Farewell, O Hiawatha!"

And the forests dark and lonely,

Moved through all their depths of darkness,
Sighed, "Farewell, O Hiawatha!"

And the heron, the Shuhshuhgah,

From her haunts among the fenlands,
Screamed, "Farewell, O Hiawatha!"

Thus departed Hiawatha,

Hiawatha, the beloved,
In the glory of the sunset,
In the purple mists of evening,
To the regions of the home-wind,
Of the northwest wind, Keewaydin,
To the Islands of the Blessed,
To the Kingdom of Ponemah,
To the land of the Hereafter.

VOL. XIII.-36