Wrapped her in her robes of ermine, And at night a fire was lighted, To the Islands of the Blessed. Stood and watched it at the doorway, 1 All my thoughts go onward with you! Come not back again to labor, Come not back again to suffer, Where the Famine and the Fever Wear the heart and waste the body. Of my many deeds of wonder." From his pouch he drew his peace-pipe, Very old and strangely fashioned; Made of red stone was the pipe-head, "When I blow my breath about me, When I breathe upon the landscape, Motionless are all the rivers, Hard as stone becomes the water!" And the young man answered, smiling: "When I blow my breath about me, When I breathe upon the landscape, Flowers spring up o'er all the meadows, Singing, onward rush the rivers!" "When I shake my hoary tresses," Said the old man darkly frowning, "All the land with snow is covered; For I speak, and lo! they are not. Hide themselves in holes and caverns, Said the young man, softly laughing, Come the wild goose and the heron, And where'er my footsteps wander, Came the sun, and said, "Behold me! Then the old man's tongue was speechless And the air grew warm and pleasant, And upon the wigwam sweetly Sang the blue-bird and the robin, And the stream began to murmur, Through the lodge was gently wafted. More distinctly in the daylight |