| On the shores of gitchgoomy by the shining big sea water
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| Hiawatha old and graying listened to the older prophet listened to Lagu
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| And the young men and the women from the land of Ojibways
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| From the land of the Dakotas from the woodlands and the prairies
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| Stood and listened to the prophet heard lagu tell Hiawatha
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| I have seen, he said, A water bigger than the big sea water
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| Broader than the gitchgoomy bitter so that none cold drink it
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| Salty so that none would use it
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| Hiawatha then spoke to them stopped all their jeering and their jesting
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| And he spoke to all the people
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| It’s true what Lagu tells you for I have seen it in a vision
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| I have also seen the water to the east to the land of morning
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| And upon this great water came a strange canoe with pinions
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| Bigger than a grove of pine trees, taller than the tallest tree tops
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| And upon this great canoe were sails to carry it swiftly
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| And it carried many people, strange and foreign were these people
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| And white were all their faces and with hair their chins were covered
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| Then said Hiawatha, I beheld a darker vision
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| Many hundreds came behind them pushed their way across our prairies
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| In our woodlands rang their axes, in our valleys smoked their cities
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| Our people were all scattered all forgetful of our councils
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| Left their homelands going westward wild and woeful
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| And the man with bearded faces, the men with skin so fair
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| With their barking sticks of thunder drove the remnants of our people
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| Farther westward, westward, westward then wild wild and wilder
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| Grew the west that once was ours |