The Rising - All Is Sorrow Pt 2

The Hiawatha Song Maddy Prior - The Song of Hiawatha
By the shore of Gitche Gumee,
By the shining Big-Sea-Water,
At the doorway of his wigwam,
In the pleasant Summer morning,
Hiawatha stood and waited.

All the air was full of freshness,
All the earth was bright and joyous,
And before him, through the sunshine,
Westward toward the neighboring forest?

Passed in golden swams, the ahmo
Passed the bees, the honey-makers
Burning, singing in the sunshine

Bright above him shone the heavens
Level spread the lake before him;
From it's bosom leaped the sturgeon
Sparkling, flashing in the sunshine
Passed in golden swams, the ahmo
Passed the bees, the honey-makers
Burning, singing in the sunshine.

Bright above him shone the heavens
Level spread the lake before him;
From it's bosom leaped the sturgeon
Sparkling, flashing in the sunshine.

From the bow of hiawatha
Gone was every trace of sorrow
As the fog from off the water
As the mist of the meadow

With a smile of joy and gladness
With a look of exultation
As of one who in a vision
Sees what is to be, but is not.

Stood and waited hiawatha
Toward the sun his hands were lifted
Both the palms spread out towards it
And between the parted fingers.

Feel the sunshine on his features
Flecked with light his naked shoulders
As it falls and flecks an oak-tree
Through the rifted leaves and branches

O'er the water floating, flying
Something in the hazy distance
Something in the mist of morning
Loomed and lifted from the water
Now seemed floating, now seemed flying
Coming nearer, nearer, nearer
Was it shingebis, the diver?
Or the pelican, the shada?

Or the heron, the shuh-shuh-gah?
Or the white goose, waw-be-wawa,
With the water dripping, flashing
From it's glossy neck and feathers?

It was neither goose or diver
Neither pelican nor heron
O'er the water floating, flying
Through the shining mist of morning

But a birch canoe with paddles
Rising, sinking in the sunshine
Dripping, flashing in the sunshine
And within it came a people

Can it be the sun descending
O'er the level plain of water
Or the red swan floatin, flying
Wounded by the magic arrow

Staining all the waves with crimson
With the crimson of it's lifeblood
Filling all the air with splendour
Filling all the air with plumage

Yes, it is the sun descending
Sinking down into the water
All the sky is stained with purple
All the water flushed with crimson!

No, it is the red swan floating
Diving down beneath the water
To the sky it's wings are lifted
With it's blood the waves are reddened!

Over it the star of evening
Melts and trembles through the purple
Hangs suspended in the twilight
Walks in silence through the heavens!

Moyne, Ernest John 1963. Hiawatha and Kalevala: A Study of the Relationship between Longfellow's 'Indian Edda' and the Finnish Epic.
Folklore Fellows Communications. 192. Helsinki: Suomen Tiedeakatemia. - Catapult The Dead The Rising - All Is Sorrow Pt 2