By the shore of gitche gumee   By the shining big-sea-water   At the doorway of the wigwam   In the early summer morning      Hiawatha stood and waited   All the air was full of freshness   All the earth was bright and joyous   And before him through the sunshine      Westward toward the neighbouring forest   Passed in golden swams, the ahmo   Passed the bees, the honey-makers   Burning, singing in the sunshine      Bright above him shone the heavens   Level spread the lake before him;   From it's bosom leaped the sturgeon   Sparkling, flashing in the sunshine      On it's margin the great forest   Stood reflected in the water   Every tree-top had it's shadow   Motionless beneath the water      From the bow of hiawatha   Gone was every trace of sorrow   As the fog from off the water   As the mist of the meadow      With a smile of joy and gladness   With a look of exultation   As of one who in a vision   Sees what is to be, but is not      Stood and waited hiawatha   Toward the sun his hands were lifted   Both the palms spread out towards it   And between the parted fingers      Feel the sunshine on his features   Flecked with light his naked shoulders   As it falls and flecks an oak-tree   Through the rifted leaves and branches      O'er the water floating, flying   Something in the hazy distance   Something in the mist of morning   Loomed and lifted from the water   Now seemed floating, now seemed flying   Coming nearer, nearer, nearer   Was it shingebis, the diver?    Or the pelican, the shada?       Or the heron, the shuh-shuh-gah?    Or the white goose, waw-be-wawa,   With the water dripping, flashing   From it's glossy neck and feathers?       It was neither goose or diver   Neither pelican nor heron   O'er the water floating, flying   Through the shining mist of morning      But a birch canoe with paddles   Rising, sinking in the sunshine   Dripping, flashing in the sunshine   And within it came a people      Can it be the sun descending   O'er the level plain of water   Or the red swan floatin, flying   Wounded by the magic arrow      Staining all the waves with crimson   With the crimson of it's lifeblood   Filling all the air with splendour   Filling all the air with plumage      Yes, it is the sun descending   Sinking down into the water   All the sky is stained with purple   All the water flushed with crimson!      No, it is the red swan floating   Diving down beneath the water   To the sky it's wings are lifted   With it's blood the waves are reddened!      Over it the star of evening   Melts and trembles through the purple   Hangs suspended in the twilight   Walks in silence through the heavens!      (h. w. longfellow. vocals: maddy prior)