Is the last day of my conflict,
Is the last day of my fasting.
You will conquer and o’ercome me;
Turning to Nokomis, pathetically:
Dear old Nokomis,
Make a bed for me to lie in,
Where the rain may fall upon me,
Where the sun may come and warm me;
Lay me in the earth, and make it
Soft and loose and light above me.