The Poetical Works of Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Chetowaik', the plover.

Keneu', the great war-eagle.

Keno'zha, the pickerel.

Ko'ko-ko'ho, the owl.

Kuntasoo', the Game of Plum-stones.

Kwa'sind, the Strong Man.

Kwo-ne'-she, or Dush-kwo-ne'-she, the dra

gon-fly.

Mahnahbe'zee, the swan.

Mahng, the loon.

Mahn-go-tay'see, loon-hearted, brave.

Mahnomo'nee, wild rice.

Ma'ma, the woodpecker.

Maskeno'zha, the pike.

Chibibos, a musician: friend of Hiawatha; Me'da, a medicine-man.

reler in the Land of Spirits. Dahin'da, the bull-frog.

Dash-kwo-ne'-she, or Kwo-ne'-she, the dra

Esa, shame upon you.
Ewa-yea, lullaby.

Gitche Gu'mee, the Big-Sea-Water, Lake |
Superior.

Gitche Man'ito, the Great Spirit, the Master
of Life.

Gushkewan', the darkness.

Hiawatha, the Prophet, the Teacher; son of Mudjekerwis, the West-Wind, and Wenonah, daughter of Nokomis.

lagoo, a great boaster and story-teller.

Meenah'ga, the blueberry.

Megissog'won, the Great Pearl-Feather, a
magician, and the Manito of Wealth.
Meshinau'wa, a pipe-bearer.
Minjekah'wun, Hiawatha's mittens.
Minnehaha, Laughing Water; a waterfall
on a stream running into the Mississippi,
between Fort Snelling and the Falls of St.
Anthony.

Minneha'ha, Laughing Water; wife of Hia-
watha.

Minne-wa'wa, a pleasant sound, as of the

wind in the trees.

Mishe-Mo'kwa, the Great Bear.
Mishe-Nah'ma, the Great Sturgeon.

Inin ewug, men, or pawns in the Game of the Miskodeed', the Spring-Beauty, the Claytonia

Bowl.

Jabkoodah', fire; a comet.

Jee bi, a ghost, a spirit.

Jossakeed, a prophet.

Katibonok ka, the North-Wind.

Kago, do not.

Kagh, the Hedgehog.
Kahgahgee', the raven.

Kaw, no.

Kaween', no indeed.

Kayoshk', the sea-gull.

Keego, a fish.

Keeway din, the Northwest wind, the Home- Nah'-ma-wusk, the spearmint

wind.

Kena beek, a serpent.

Na'gow Wudjoo', the Sand Dunes of Lake
Superior.

Nee-ba-naw'-baigs, water-spirits.

Nenemoo'sha, sweetheart.

Nepah'win, sleep.

Shahbo'min, the gooseberry.

Shah-shah, long ago.

Shaugoda'ya, a coward.

Nokomis, a grandmother; mother of Weno- Shawgashee', the craw-fish.

nah.

Oweenee', wife of Osseo.

Shawonda'see, the South-Wind.

Shaw-shaw, the swallow.

Shesh'ebwug, ducks; pieces in the Game of
the Bowl.

Shin'gebis, the diver, or greebe.
Showain'neme'shin, pity me.
Shuh'shuh'gah, the blue heron.

Soan-ge-ta'ha, strong-hearted.
Subbeka'she, the spider.
Sugge'ma, the mosquito.
To'tem, family coat-of-arms.
Ugh, yes.

Ozawa'beek. a round piece of brass or copper Ugudwash', the sun-fish.

in the Game of the Bowl.

Pah-puk-kee'-na, the grasshopper.

Pau'guk, death.

Unktahee', the God of Water.

Wabas'so, the rabbit; the North.

Wabe'no, a magician, a juggler.

Pau-Puk-Kee'wis, the handsome Yenadizze, Wabe'no-wusk, yarrow.

the Storm-Fool.

Pawwa'ting, Saut Sainte Marie.

Pe'boan, Winter.

Wa'bun, the East-Wind.

Wa'bun An'nung, the Star of the East, the
Morning Star.

Pem'ican, meat of the deer or buffalo dried Wahono'min, a cry of lamentation.

and pounded.

Wah-wah-tay'see, the fire-fly.

Wam'pum, beads of shell.

Waubewy'on, a white skin wrapper.
Wa wa, the wild-goose.

Waw beek, a rock.

Waw-be-wa'wa, the white goose.

little Wawonais'sa, the whippoorwill.
Way-muk-kwa'na, the caterpillar.
Weno'nah, the eldest daughter.

mother daughter of Nokomis.

Hiawatha's

Yenadiz'ze. an idler and gambler; an Indi ta

dandy.

THE LADDER OF ST. AUGUSTINE.

SAINT AUGUSTINE! well hast thou said,

That of our vices we can frame
A ladder, if we will but tread
Beneath our feet each deed of shame!

All common things, each day's events,
That with the hour begin and end,
Our pleasures and our discontents,
Are rounds by which we may ascend.

The low desire, the base design,
That makes another's virtues less;
The revel of the ruddy wine,

And all occasions of excess;

The longing for ignoble things;
The strife for triumph more than

truth;

The hardening of the heart, that brings
Irreverence for the dreams of youth;

All thoughts of ill; all evil deeds,
That have their roots in thoughts of
ill;

Whatever hinders or impedes

The action of the nobler will ;-
All these must first be trampled down
Beneath our feet, if we would gain
In the bright fields of fair renown
The right of eminent domain.

| We have not wings, we cannot soar;

But we have feet to scale and climb
By slow degrees, by more and more,
The cloudy summits of our time.
The mighty pyramids of stone

That wedge-like cleave the desert airs,
When nearer seen, and better known,
Are but gigantic flights of stairs.
The distant mountains, that uprear
Their solid bastions to the skies,
Are crossed by pathways, that appear
As we to higher levels rise.

The heights by great men reached and
kept

Were not attained by sudden flight,
But they, while their companions slept,
Were toiling upward in the night.

Standing on what too long we bore
With shoulders bent and downcast
eyes,

We may discern-unseen before-
A path to higher destinies.
Nor deem the irrevocable Past,

As wholly wasted, wholly vain,
If, rising on its wrecks, at last
To something nobler we attain.

PROMETHEUS,

OR THE POET'S FORETHOUGHT.

OF Prometheus, how undaunted
On Olympus' shining bastions
His audacious foot he planted,
Myths are told and songs are chanted,
Full of promptings and suggestions.
Beautiful is the tradition

Thus were Milton and Cervantes,
Nature's priests and Corybantes,

By affliction touched and saddened. But the glories so transcendent

That around their memories cluster, And, on all their steps attendant,

Of that flight through heavenly por- Make their darkened lives resplendent

tals,

The old classic superstition

Of the theft and the transmission

Of the fire of the Immortals !

First the deed of noble daring,

Born of heavenward aspiration, Then the fire with mortals sharing, Then the vulture,-the despairing Cry of pain on crags Caucasian.

All is but a symbol painted

Of the Poet, Prophet, Seer;
Only those are crowned and sainted
Who with grief have been acquainted,
Making nations nobler, freer.

In their feverish exultations,

In their triumph and their yearning, In their passionate pulsations, In their words among the nations, The Promethean fire is burning.

Shall it, then, be unavailing,

All this toil for human culture? Through the cloud-rack, dark and trailing,

Must they see above them sailing
O'er life's barren crags the vulture?

Such a fate as this was Dante's,
By defeat and exile maddened;

With such gleams of inward lustre ! All the melodies mysterious,

Through the dreary darkness chanted; Thoughts in attitudes imperious, Voices soft, and deep, and serious, Words that whispered, songs that haunted.

All the soul in rapt suspension,

All the quivering, palpitating Chords of life in utmost tension, With the fervour of invention,

With the rapture of creating!

Ah, Prometheus! heaven-scaling!

In such hours of exultation
Even the faintest heart, unquailing,
Might behold the vulture sailing

Round the cloudy crags Caucasian ! Though to all there is not given

Strength for such sublime endeavour, Thus to scale the walls of heaven, And to leaven with fiery leaven

All the hearts of men for ever;

Yet all bards, whose hearts unblighted
Honour and believe the presage,
Hold aloft their torches lighted,
Gleaming through the realms benighted,
As they onward bear the message!

THE PHANTOM SHIP.

In Mather's Magnalia Christi,
Of the old colonial time,
May be found in prose the legend
That is here set down in rhyme.

A ship sailed from New Haven,
And the keen and frosty airs,

That filled her sails at parting,

Were heavy with good men's prayers, "O Lord! if it be thy pleasure"Thus prayed the old divine"To bury our friends in the ocean, Take them, for they are thine!"

THE WARDEN OF THE CINQUE PORTS.

A MIST was driving down the British Channel,
The day was just begun,

And through the window-panes, on floor and panel,
Streamed the red autumn sun.

It glanced on flowing flag and rippling pennon,
And the white sails of ships;

And, from the frowning rampart, the black cannon
Hailed it with feverish lips.

Sandwich and Romney, Hastings, Hithe, and Dover,
Were all alert that day,

To see the French war-steamers speeding over,
When the fog cleared away.

Sullen and silent, and like couchant lions,
Their cannon through the night,

Holding their breath, had watched, in grim defiance,
The sea-coast opposite.

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