The Song of Hiawatha

by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

In the thickets and the meadows

Piped the bluebird, the Owaissa,

On the summit of the lodges

Sang the robin, the Opechee,

In the covert of the pine-trees

Cooed the pigeon, the Omemee;

And the sorrowing Hiawatha,

Speechless in his infinite sorrow,

Heard their voices calling to him,

Went forth from his gloomy doorway,