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