"O, beware of Mudjekeewis,

Of the West-Wind, Mudjekeewis;

Listen not to what he tells

you;

Lie not down upon the meadow,

Stoop not down among the lilies,
Lest the West-Wind come and harm you!"
But she heeded not the warning,
Heeded not those words of wisdom,
And the West-Wind came at evening,
Walking lightly o'er the prairie,

Whispering to the leaves and blossoms,
Bending low the flowers and grasses,
Found the beautiful Wenonah,

Lying there among the lilies,

Wooed her with his words of sweetness,

Wooed her with his soft caresses,

Till she bore a son in sorrow,

Bore a son of love and sorrow.

Thus was born my Hiawatha,

Thus was born the child of wonder;

But the daughter of Nokomis,

Hiawatha's gentle mother,

In her anguish died deserted

By the West-Wind, false and faithless, By the heartless Mudjekeewis.

For her daughter, long and loudly Wailed and wept the sad Nokomis ; "O that I were dead!" she murmured, "O that I were dead, as thou art!

No more work, and no more weeping,
Wahonomin! Wahonomin!"

By the shores of Gitche Gumee,
By the shining Big-Sea-Water,
Stood the wigwam of Nokomis,
Daughter of the Moon, Nokomis.
Dark behind it rose the forest,
Rose the black and gloomy pine-trees,
Rose the firs with cones upon them;

Bright before it beat the water,

Beat the clear and sunny water,

Beat the shining Big-Sea-Water.

There the wrinkled, old Nokomis

Nursed the little Hiawatha,

Rocked him in his linden cradle,
Bedded soft in moss and rushes,

Safely bound with reindeer sinews;
Stilled his fretful wail by saying,
"Hush! the Naked Bear will get thee!"
Lulled him into slumber, singing,

"Ewa-yea! my little owlet!

Who is this, that lights the wigwam? With his great eyes lights the wigwam? Ewa-yea! my little owlet!"

Many things Nokomis taught him

Of the stars that shine in heaven;

Showed him Ishkoodah, the comet,

Ishkoodah, with fiery tresses;

Showed the Death-Dance of the spirits,

Warriors with their plumes and war-clubs,

Flaring far away to northward

In the frosty nights of Winter;

Showed the broad, white road in heaven,
Pathway of the ghosts, the shadows,
Running straight across the heavens,
Crowded with the ghosts, the shadows.
At the door on summer evenings
Sat the little Hiawatha;

Heard the whispering of the pine-trees,
Heard the lapping of the water,

Sounds of music, words of wonder ; "Minne-wawa!" said the pine-trees, "Mudway-aushka!" said the water.

Saw the fire-fly, Wah-wah-taysee, Flitting through the dusk of evening, With the twinkle of its candle Lighting up the brakes and bushes, And he sang the song of children, Sang the song Nokomis taught him: "Wah-wah-taysee, little fire-fly, Little, flitting, white-fire insect,

Little, dancing, white-fire creature,
Light me with your little candle,
Ere upon my bed I lay me,

Ere in sleep I close my eyelids!"

Saw the moon rise from the water
Rippling, rounding from the water,
Saw the flecks and shadows on it,
Whispered, "What is that, Nokomis?"
And the good Nokomis answered:
"Once a warrior, very angry,

Seized his grandmother, and threw her
Up into the sky at midnight;
Right against the moon he threw her;
'Tis her body that you see there."

Saw the rainbow in the heaven,

In the eastern sky, the rainbow,
Whispered, "What is that, Nokomis ? "

And the good Nokomis answered:

"'Tis the heaven of flowers you see there; All the wild-flowers of the forest,