And the wild goose—Old Shebogah—honks a pæan from the sky,
Saying: “Farewell, farewell, brother, would that I, myself could die,
So that I could wander with you through the vale of shadowy tears,
Would that I could traverse with you, through the mist of golden years!”
And the squirrel—little Ooquah—chatters shrilly from the glade;
“Farewell! Farewell! Father, when you are gone I’ll be afraid.
Yea, I’ll hide from men and maidens, for my friend has passed away,
Farewell! Farewell! Father! Sad the scene and sad the day!”
And the beaver, sleek and square-tailed, casts his brown eyes on the lake,
Sobbing, mutt’ring; “Farewell! Father! All my kin obeisance make.