A will benign, in which reveals itself

Abreast, like oxen going in a yoke

Absorbed in his delight, that contemplator

Adjidau'mo, the red squirrel

After that Constantine the eagle turned

After the gracious and glad salutations

After the truth against the present life

Already had the sun the horizon reached

Already on my Lady's face mine eyes

Already was the Angel left behind us

Already was the flame erect and quiet

An end had put unto his reasoning

Appeared before me with its wings outspread

As came to Clymene, to be made certain

As much as 'twixt the close of the third hour

As unto the bow the cord is

As when he vibrates forth his earliest rays

At the conclusion of his words, the thief

At the return of consciousness, that closed

At what time both the children of Latona


Beautiful Clemence, after that thy Charles

Because the charity of my native place

Behold the monster with the pointed tail

Between two viands, equally removed

Blind Bartimeus at the gates

Broke the deep lethargy within my head

By the shore of Gitche Gumee


Can it be the sun descending


Darkness of hell, and of a night deprived

Day was departing, and the embrowned air

Deus venerunt gentes, alternating

Downward through the evening twilight


Eager already to search in and round

Even as a bird, 'mid the beloved leaves


Far and wide among the nations

Filled is Life's goblet to the brim

Forth from the curtain of clouds, from the tent of purple and scarlet

Forth upon the Gitche Gumee

From bridge to bridge thus, speaking other things

From centre unto rim, from rim to centre

Full of wrath was Hiawatha


Give me of your bark, O Birch-tree!

Glory be to the Father, to the Son


His mouth uplifted from his grim repast

Honor be to Mudjekeewis!

How strange the sculptures that adorn these towers!


I enter, and I see thee in the gloom

I had already from those shades departed

I have erewhile seen horsemen moving camp

I have read, in some old, marvellous tale

I heard the trailing garments of the Night

I Lift mine eyes, and all the windows blaze

I like that ancient Saxon phrase, which calls

I say, continuing, that long before

If e'er it happen that the Poem Sacred

If I had rhymes both rough and stridulous

If in the heat of love I flame upon thee

Ill strives the will against a better will

In fashion then as of a snow-white rose

In his lodge beside a river

In that part of the youthful year wherein

In the Old Colony days, in Plymouth the land of the Pilgrims

In those days said Hiawatha

In those days the Evil Spirits

Inasmuch as the instantaneous flight

Into the open air John Alden, perplexed and bewildered

It was the hour when the diurnal heat

It was the schooner Hesperus


Just in the gray of the dawn, as the mists uprose from the meadows


King Christian stood by the lofty mast


Let him imagine, who would well conceive

Looking into his Son with all the Love


Maiden! with the meek, brown eyes

Meanwhile the stalwart Miles Standish was marching steadily northward

Midway upon the journey of our life

Month after month passed away, and in Autumn the ships of the merchants


Never stoops the soaring vulture

Nor speech the going, nor the going that

Not yet had Nessus reached the other side

Nothing was heard in the room but the hurrying pen of the stripling

Now bears us onward one of the hard margins

Now onward goes, along a narrow path

Now was alone rejoicing in its word

Now was I where was heard the reverberation

Now was it the ascent no hindrance brooked


O company elect to the great supper

O Simon Magus, O forlorn disciples

O star of morning and of liberty!

O Thou insensate care of mortal men

O thou our poor nobility of blood

O thou who art beyond the sacred river

O Ye, who in some pretty little boat

Of a new pain behoves me to make verses

Oft have I seen at some cathedral door

Oh the long and dreary Winter!

On the Mountains of the Prairie

On the shores of Gitche Gumee

One and the selfsame tongue first wounded me

Oppressed with stupor, I unto my guide

Osanna sanctus Deus Sabaoth

Our Father, thou who dwellest in the heavens

Out of childhood into manhood


Pape Satan, Pape Satan, Aleppe!

Perchance six thousand miles remote from us

Pleasant it was, when woods were green


Rejoice, O Florence, since thou art so great

Remember, Reader, if e'er in the Alps

River! that in silence windest


Should you ask me

Silent, alone, and without company

Sing, O Song of Hiawatha

Singing like unto an enamoured lady

So steadfast and attentive were mine eyes

So the strong will prevailed, and Alden went on his errand

Soon as the blessed flame had taken up

Spake full well, in language quaint and olden

Speak! speak I thou fearful guest


Tell me not, in mournful numbers

That hue which cowardice brought out on me

That Sun, which erst with love my bosom warmed

The concubine of old Tithonus now

The day is cold, and dark, and dreary

The glory of Him who moveth everything

The many people and the divers wounds

The natural thirst, that ne'er is satisfied

The night is come, but not too soon

The place where to descend the bank we came

The rising moon has hid the stars

The shades of night were falling fast

The sun is bright,--the air is clear

The while among the verdant leaves mine eyes

The world used in its peril to believe

There is a place in Hell called Malebolge

There is a Reaper, whose name is Death

Thou Virgin Mother, daughter of thy Son

Through me the way is to the city dolent

Thus for a while he stood, and mused by the shore of the ocean

Thus I descended out of the first circle

To run o'er better waters hoists its sail

Twas at the time when Juno was enraged

Twas now the hour that turneth back desire

Two good friends had Hiawatha


Under a spreading chestnut-tree

Upon the margin of a lofty bank


Vexilla Regis prodeunt Inferni


We were upon the summit of the stairs

When he who all the world illuminates

When the hours of Day are numbered

When the Septentrion of the highest heaven

When we had crossed the threshold of the door

Whene'er is broken up the game of Zara

Whenever by delight or else by pain

While I was doubting for my vision quenched

While on the brink thus one before the other

Who ever could, e'en with untrammelled words

Who is this one that goes about our mountain

With snow-white veil, and garments as of flame


Yes, the Year is growing old

You shall hear how Hiawatha

You shall hear how Pau-Puk-Keewis [Hiawatha's Wedding-Feast (XI)]

You shall hear how Pau-Puk-Keewis [Pau-Puk-Keewis (XVI)]