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Longfellow Henry Wadsworth
«The Song of Hiawatha»

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the Big-Sea-WaterFrom the distant Thunder Mountains;And the trembling Pau-Puk-KeewisHeard the footsteps of the thunder,Saw the red eyes of the lightning,Was afraid, and crouched and trembled.Then Waywassimo, the lightning,Smote the doorways of the caverns,With his war-club smote the doorways,Smote the jutting crags of sandstone,And the thunder, Annemeekee,Shouted down into the caverns,Saying, "Where is Pau-Puk-Keewis!"And the crags fell, and beneath themDead among the rocky ruinsLay the cunning Pau-Puk-Keewis,Lay the handsome Yenadizze,Slain in his own human figure.Ended were his wild adventures,Ended were his tricks and gambols,Ended all his craft and cunning,Ended all his mischief-making,All his gambling and his dancing,All his wooing of the maidens.Then the noble HiawathaTook his soul, his ghost, his shadow,Spake and said: "O Pau-Puk-Keewis,Never more in human figureShall you search for new adventures'Never more with jest and laughterDance the dust and leaves in whirlwinds;But above there in the heavensYou shall soar and sail in circles;I will change you to an eagle,To Keneu, the great war-eagle,Chief of all the fowls with feathers,Chief of Hiawatha's chickens."And the name of Pau-Puk-KeewisLingers still among the people,Lingers still among the singers,And among the story-tellers;And in Winter, when the snow-flakesWhirl in eddies round the lodges,When the wind in gusty tumultO'er the smoke-flue pipes and whistles,"There," they cry, "comes Pau-Puk-Keewis,He is dancing through the village,He is gathering in his harvest!"

XVIII



The Death of Kwasind




Far and wide among the nationsSpread the name and fame of Kwasind;No man dared to strive with Kwasind,No man could compete with Kwasind.But the mischievous Puk-Wudjies,They the envious Little People,They the fairies and the pygmies,Plotted and conspired against him."If this hateful Kwasind," said they,"If this great, outrageous fellowGoes on thus a little longer,Tearing everything he touches,Rending everything to pieces,Filling all the world with wonder,What becomes of the Puk-Wudjies?Who will care for the Puk-Wudjies?He will tread us down like mushrooms,Drive us all into the
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