157.

HIAWATHA'S HUNTING.

HEN the little Hiawatha

THEN

Learned of every bird its language, Learned their names and all their secrets, How they built their nests in summer, Where they hid themselves in winter, Talked with them where'er he met them, Called them "Hiawatha's chickens." Of all beasts he learned the language, Learned their names and all their secrets, How the beavers built their lodges, Where the squirrels hid their acorns, How the reindeer ran so swiftly,

Why the rabbit was so timid,

Talked with them where'er he met them,

Called them "Hiawatha's brothers."

Then Iagoo, the great boaster,

He, the marvellous story-teller,
He, the traveller and the talker,

Made a bow for Hiawatha;

From a branch of ash he made it,

From an oak bow made the arrows,

Tipp'd with flint, and wing'd with feathers,
And the cord he made of deer-skin.
Then he said to Hiawatha,

66

Go, my son, into the forest,

Where the red deer herd together;
Kill for us a famous roebuck,
Kill for us a deer with antlers."
Forth into the forest straightway
All alone, walked Hiawatha

Proudly, with his bow and arrows.

And the birds sang round him, o'er him, "Do not shoot us, Hiawatha."

Sang the robin, sang the bluebird,
"Do not shoot us, Hiawatha."
Up the oak-tree, close beside him,
Sprang the squirrel, lightly leaping
In and out among the branches;
Coughed and chattered from the oak-tree,
Laughed, and said between his laughing,
"Do not shoot me, Hiawatha."
And the rabbit from his pathway
Leaped aside, and at a distance
Sat erect upon his haunches,
Half in fear, and half in frolic,
Saying to the little hunter,
"Do not shoot me, Hiawatha."
But he heeded not, nor heard them,

For his thoughts were with the red deer;
On their tracks his eyes were fastened,
Leading downward to the river,
To the ford across the river,

And as one in slumber walked he.
Hidden in the alder-bushes,
There he waited till the deer came,
Till he saw two antlers lifted,
Saw two eyes look from the thicket,
Saw two nostrils point to windward,
And a deer came down the pathway,
Flecked with leafy light and shadow.
And his heart within him fluttered,
Trembled like the leaves above him,

Like the birch-leaf palpitated,

As the deer came down the pathway.
Then, upon one knee uprising,
Hiawatha aimed an arrow;

Scarce a twig moved with his motion,
Scarce a leaf was stirred, or rustled;
But the
wary roebuck started,

Stamped with all his hoofs together,
Listened with one foot uplifted,
Leaped as if to meet the arrow;
Ah, the stinging, fatal arrow,
Like a wasp it buzzed and stung him.
Dead he lay there in the forest,
By the ford across the river;
Beat his timid heart no longer
But the heart of Hiawatha

Throbbed, and shouted, and exulted,
As he bore the red deer homeward.

LONGFELLOW

158. THE PERI AT THE GATE
OF PARADISE.

[From LALLA ROOKн.]

OW happy," exclaimed this child of air,

"HOW

"Are the holy spirits which wander there, Mid flowers that never shall fade or fall: Though mine are the gardens of earth and sea, And the stars themselves have flowers for me,

One blossom of heaven outblooms them all!

แ

"Though sunny the lake of cool Cashmere, With its plane-tree isle reflected clear,

And sweetly the founts of that valley fall: Though bright are the waters of Sing-su-hay, And the golden floods that thitherward stray, Yet oh! 'tis only the blest can say

How the waters of heaven outshine them all! "Go, wing thy flight from star to star, From world to luminous world, as far

As the universe spreads its flaming wall :
Take all the pleasures of all the spheres,
And multiply each through endless years,
One minute of heaven is worth them all!"

T. MOORE.

159. THE BECALMED SHIP.

[From THE ANCIENT MARINER.]

THE fair breeze blew, the white foam flew,

THE

The furrow followed free;

We were the first that ever burst

Into that silent sea.

Down dropt the breeze, the sails dropt down, 'Twas sad as sad could be;

And we did speak only to break

The silence of the sea!

All in a hot and copper sky,

The bloody sun, at noon,

Right up above the mast did stand,
No bigger than the moon.

Day after day, day after day,

We stuck, nor breath nor motion;

As idle as a painted ship

Upon a painted ocean.

Water, water everywhere,

And all the boards did shrink:

Water, water everywhere,

Nor any drop to drink!

The very deep did rot: alas!
That ever this should be:
Yea, slimy things did crawl with legs
Upon the slimy sea.

About, about, in reel and rout,

The death-fires danc'd at night:

The water, like a witch's oils,

Burnt green, and blue, and white.

And every tongue, through utter drought,
Was withered at the root:

We could not speak no more than if
We had been choked with soot.

There passed a weary time: each throat
Was parched, and glazed each eye;
When, looking westward, I beheld
A something in the sky.

At first it seemed a little speck,
And then it seemed a mist:

It moved and moved, and took at last
A certain shape, I wist.