The Song of Hiawatha

by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Slumbered in the sultry wigwam.

Slowly o’er the simmering landscape

Fell the evening’s dusk and coolness,

And the long and level sunbeams

Shot their spears into the forest,

Breaking through its shields of shadow,

Rushed into each secret ambush,

Searched each thicket, dingle, hollow;

Still the guests of Hiawatha

Slumbered in the silent wigwam.