Scenes from the Song of

HiawathaBy H.W. LONGFELLOWSet to Music for Soprano, Tenor, and Barytone Solos, Chorus and Orchestra BYS. COLERIDGE-TAYLOR(Op.30.)Section I--HIAWATHA'S WEDDING FEAST.PreludeChorus.You shall hear how Pau-Puk -Keewis,How the handsome YenadizzeDanced at Hiawatha's wedding;How the gentle Chibiabos,He the sweetest of musicians,Sang his songs of love and longing;How Iagoo, the great boaster,He the marvellous story-teller,Told his tales of strange adventure,That the feast might be more joyous,That the time might pass more gayly,And the guests be more contented.Sumptuous was the feast NokomisMade at Hiawatha's wedding;All the bowls were made of bass-wood,White and polished very smoothly,All the spoons of horn of bison,Black an polished very smoothly.She had sent through all the villageMessengers with wands of willow,As a sign of invitation,As a token of the feasting;And the wedding guests assembled,Clad in all their richest raiment,Robes of fur and belts of Wampum,Splendid with their paint and plumage,Beautiful with beads and tassels,First they ate the sturgeon, Nahma,And the pike, the Maskenozha,Caught and cooked by old Nokomis;Then on Pemican they feasted,Pemican and Buffalo marrow,Haunch of deer and hump of bison,Yellow cakes of the Mondamin,And the wild rice of the river.But the gracious Hiawatha,And the lovely Laughing Water,And the careful old Nokomis,Tasted not the food before them,Only waited on the others,Only served their guests in silence.And when all the guests had finished,Old Nokomis, brisk and busy,From an ample pouch of otter,Filled the red-stone pipes for smokingWith tobacco from the South-land,Mixed with bark of the red willow,And with herbs and leaves of fragrance.Then she said, "O Pau-Puk-Keewis,Dance for us your merry dances,Dance the Beggar's Dance to please us,That the feast may be more joyousThat the time may pass more gaylyAnd our guests be more contented!"ChorusThen the handsome Pau-Puk-Keewis,He the idle Yenadizze,He the merry mischief-makerWhom the people called the Storm-Fool,Rose among the guests assembled.Skilled was he in sports and pastimes,In the merry dance of snow-shoes,In the play of quoits and ball-play;Skilled was he in games of hazard,In all games of skill and hazard,Pugassaing, the Bowl and Counters,Koomtassoo, the Game of Plum-stonesThough the warriors called him Faint-Heart,]Called him coward, Shaugodaya,Idler, gambler, Yenadizze,

THE WEBER PIANOFORTE is loaned through the courtesy of Mr. PERCY S. FOSTER, Manager of SANDERS & STAYMAN'S Music House, 1327 F Street.

00042

Little heeded he their jesting,Little cared he for their insults,For the women and the maidensLoved the handsome Pau-Puk-Keewis.Chorus.He was dressed in shirt of doe-skin,White and soft, and fringed with ermine,All inwrought with beads of wampum;He was dressed in deer-skin leggins,Fringed with hedgehog quills and ermineAnd in moccasins of buckskin,Thick with quills and beads embroidered.On his head were plumes of swan's down,On his heels were tails of foxes,In one hand a fan of feathers,And a pipe was in the other.Barred with streaks of red and yellow,Streaks of blue and bright vermilion,Shone the face of Pau-Puk_Keewis.From his forehead fell his tresses,Smooth, and parted like a woman'sShining bright with oil, and plaited,Hung with braids of scented grasses,As among the guests assembled,To the sound of flutes and singing,To the sound of drums and voices,Rose the handsome Pau-Puk-Keewis,And began his mystic dances.Chorus.First he danced a solemn measure,Very slow in step and gesture,In and out among the pine-trees,Through the shadows and the sunshine,Treading softly like a panther.Then more swiftly and still swifter,Whirling, spinning round in circles,Leaping o'er the guests assembled,Eddying round and round the wigwam,Till the leaves went whirling with him,Till the dust and wind togetherSwept in eddies round about him.Then along the sandy marginOf the lake, the Big-Sea-Water,On he sped with frenzied gestures,Stamped upon the sand, and tossed itWildly in the air around him;Till the wind became a whirlwind,Till the sand was blown and siftedLike great snowdrifts o'er the landscape,Heaping all the shores with Sand Dunes,Sand Hills of the Nagow Wudjoo!Thus the merry Pau-Puk KeewisDanced his Beggar's Dance to please them,And, returning, sat down laughingThere among the guests assembled,Sat and fanned himself serenelyWith his fan of turkey-feathers.Chorus.Then they said to Chibiabos,To the friend of Hiawatha,To the sweetest of all singers,To the best of all musicians,"Sing to us, O Chibiabos!Songs of love and songs of longing,That the least may be more joyous,That the time may pass more gayly.And our guests be more contented!"And the gentle ChibiabosSang in accents sweet and tenderSang in tones of deep emotion,Songs of love and songs of longing;Looking still at Hiawatha,Looking at fair Laughing Water,Sang he softly, sang in this wise:Tenor Solo."Onaway! Awake, beloved!Thou the wild-flower of the forest!Thou the wild-bird of the prairie!Thou with eyes so soft and swan-like!"If thou only lookest at me,I am happy, I am happy,As the lilies of the prairie,When they feel the dew upon them!"Sweet thy breath is as the fragranceOf the wild-flowers in the morning,As their fragrance is at evening,In the Moon when leaves are falling."Does not all the blood within meLeap to meet thee, leap to meet thee,As the Springs to meet the sunshine,In the Moon when nights are brightest?"Onaway! my heart sings to thee,Sings with joy when thou art near me.

HIAWATHA, the prophet and teacher, son of Mudjekeewis the West Wind and Winona, daughter of Nokomis. Nagow Wudjoo. The Sand Dunes of Lake Superior, near the "Pictured Rocks."

00053

As the sighing, singing branchesIn the pleasant Moon of Strawberries!"When thou art not pleased, beloved,Then my heart is sad and darkened,As the shining river darkensWhen the clouds drop shadows on it!"When thou smilest, my beloved,Then my troubled heart is brightened,As in sunshine gleam the ripplesThat the cold wind makes in rivers."Smiles the earth and smile the watersSmile the cloudless skies above us,But I lose the way of smilingWhen thou art no longer near me!"I myself, myself! behold me!Blood of my beating heart, behold me,O awake, awake, beloved!Chorus.Thus the gentle ChibiabosSang his song of love and longing;And Iagoo, the great boaster,He the marvellous story-teller,He the friend of old Nokomis,Jealous of the sweet musician,Jealous of the applause they gave him,Saw in all the eyes around him,Saw in all their looks and gestures,That the wedding guests assembledLonged to hear his pleasant stories,His immeasurable falsehoods.Chorus.Very boastful was Iagoo,Never heard he an adventureBut himself had met a greater;Never any deed of daringBut himself had done a bolder;Never any marvellous storyBut himself could tell a stranger.Would you listen to his boasting,Would you only give him credence.No one ever shot an arrowHalf so far and high as he had;Ever caught so many fishes,Ever killed so many reindeer,Ever trapped so many beaver!None could run so fast as he could,None could dive so deep as he could,None could swim so far as he could;None had made so many journeys,None had seen so many wonders,As this wonderful Iagoo,As this marvellous story-teller!Thus his name became a by-wordAnd a jest among the people;And when'er a boastful hunter,Praised his own address too highly,Or a warrior, home returning,Talked too much of his achievements,All his hearers cried, "Iagoo!Here's Iagoo come among us!"He it was who craved the cradleOf the little Hiawatha,Carved its framework out of linden,Bound it strong with reindeer sinews;He it was who taught him laterHow to make his bows and arrows,How to make the bows of ash-tree.And the arrows of the oak-tree.So among the guests assembledAt my Hiawatha's weddingSat Iagoo, old and ugly,Sat the marvellous story-teller.And they said, "O good Iagoo,Tell us now a tale of wonder,Tell us of some strange adventure,That the feast may be more joyous,That the time may pass more gayly,And our guests be more contented!"And Iagoo answered straightway,"You shall hear a tale of wonder."You shall hear the strange adventuresOf Osseo, the Magician,From the Evening Star descended."Chorus.Such was Hiawatha's wedding,Thus the wedding-banquet ended,And the wedding guests departed,Leaving Hiawatha HappyWith the night and Minnehaha.

SMITH BROS. will do your PRINTING so as to be SATISFACTORY to you in workmanship and price. 816 4th St., N.W.

00064

Section II--THE DEATH OF MINNEHAHA.PreludeOrchestra Chorus.O the long and dreary winter!O the cold and cruel winter!Ever thicker, thicker, thickerFroze the ice on lake and river,Ever deeper, deeper, deeperFell the snow o'er all the landscape,Fell the covering snow, and driftedThrough the forest, round the village,Hardly from his buried wigwamCould the hunter force a passage;With his mittens and his snow shoesVainly walked he through the forest,Sought for bird or beast and found none,Saw no track of deer or rabbit,In the ghastly, gleaming forestFell, and could not rise from weakness,Perished there from cold and hunger.O the famine and the fever!O the wasting of the famine!O the blasting of the fever!O the wailing of the children!O the anguish of the women!All the earth was sick and famished;Hungry was the air around them,Hungry was the sky above them,And the hungry stars in heavenLike the eyes of wolves glared at them.Chorus.Into the Hiawatha's wigwamCame two silent guests and gloomy,Waited not to be invited,Did not parley at the doorway,Sat there without word of welcomeIn the seat of Laughing Water;Looked with haggard eyes and hollowAt the face of Laughing Water.Barytone And Soprano Solos.And the foremost said: "Behold me!I am Famine, Buckadawin!"And the other said: "Behold me!I am Fever, Ahkosewin!"Chorus.And the lovely MinnehahaShuddered as they looked upon her,Shuddered at the words they uttered,Lay down on her bed in silence,Hid her face, but made no answer;Lay there trembling, freezing, burningAt the looks they cast upon her,At fearful words they uttered.Chorus And Barytone Solo.Forth into the empty forestRushed the maddened Hiawatha;In his heart was deadly sorrow,In his face a stony firmness;On his brow the sweat of anguishStarted, but it froze and fell not.Wrapped in furs and armed for hunting,With his mighty bow of ash-tree,With his quiver full of arrows,With his mittens, Minjekahwan,Into the vast and vacant forestOn his snow-shoes strode he forward."Gitche Manito, the Mighty!"Cried he with his face upliftedIn that bitter hour of anguish,"Give your children food, O father,Give us food or we must perish!Give me food for Minnehaha,For my dying Minnehaha!Chorus.Through the far-resounding forest,Through the forest vast and vacantRang that cry of desolation,But there came no other answerThan the echo of his crying,Than the echo of the woodlands,"Minnehaha! Minnehaha!All day long roved HiawathaIn that melancholy forest,Through the shadow of whose thickets,In the pleasant days of Summer,Of that ne'er forgotten Summer,He had brought his young wife homewardFrom the land of the Dacotahs;When the birds sang in the thickets,And the streamlets laughed and glistened,And the air was full of fragrance,And the lovely Laughing WaterSaid with voice that did not tremble"I will follow you, my husband! 00075Chorus, Soprano Solo, Sopranos And Altos.In the wigwam with Nokomis,With those gloomy guests, that watched herWith the famine and the Fever,She the lying, the Beloved,She was dying Minnehaha."Hark!" she said; "I hear a rushing,Hear a roaring and a rushing,Hear the falls of MinnehahaCalling to me from a distance!""No, my child!" said old Nokomis,"'Tis the night-wind in the pine-trees!""Look!" she said; "I see my fatherStanding lonely at his doorway,Beckoning to me from his wigwamIn the land of the Dakotahs!""No my child!" said old Nokomis"'Tis the smoke, that waves and beckons!""Ah!" said she, "the eyes of* PaugukGlare upon me in the darkness,I can feel his joy fingersClasping mine amid the darkness!Hiawatha! Hiawatha!"And the desolate Hiawatha,Far away amid the forest,Miles away among the mountains,Heard the voice of MinnehahaCalling to him in the darkness,"Hiawatha! Hiawatha!"Over snow-fields waste and pathlessUnder snow-encumbered branches,Homeward hurried Hiawatha,Empty-handed, heavy-hearted,Heard Nokomis moaning, wailing:"Wahonomin! Wahonomin!Would that I had perished for you,Would that I were as dead as you are!Wahonomin! Wahonomin!And he rushed into the wigwam,Saw the old Nokomis slowlyRocking to and fro and moaning,Saw his lovely MinnehahaLying dead and cold before him,And his bursting heart within himUttered such a cry of anguish,That the forest moaned and shuddered,That the very stars in heavenShook and trembled with his anguish.Then he sat down, still and speechless,On the bed of Minnehaha,At the feet of Laughing Water,At those willing feet, that neverMore would likely run to meet him,Never more would lightly follow.With both hands his face he covered,Seven long days and nights he sat there,As if in a swoon he sat there,Speechless, motionless, unconsciousOf the daylight or the darkness.Chorus.Then they buried Minnehaha;In the snow a grave they made her,In the forest deep and darksome,Underneath the moaning hemlocks;Clothed her in her richest garments,Wrapped her in her robes of ermine:Covered her with snow, like ermine,Thus they buried Minnehaha.And at night a fire was lighted,On her grave four times was kindled,For her soul upon its journeyTo the Islands of the blessed,From his doorway HiawathaSaw it burning in the forest,Lighting up the gloomy hemlocks;From his sleepless bed uprising,From the bed of Minnehaha,Stood and watched it at the doorway,That it might not be extinguished,Might not leave her in the darkness.Barytone Solos And Chorus."Farewell!" said he, "Minnehaha!Farewell, O my Laughing Water!All my heart is buried with you,All thoughts go onward with you!Come not back again to labor,Come not back again to suffer,Where the Famine and the FeverWear the heart and waste the body,Soon my task will be completed,Soon your footsteps I shall followTo the Islands of the blessed,To the Kingdom of Ponemah,To the land of the Hereafter!"

*Pauguk--Death.Soprano And Barytone Solos And Chorus.00086

Section III--HIAWATHA'S DEPARTURE.PreludeOrchestra SOPRANO SOLO.Spring had come with all its splendour,All its birds and all its blossoms,All its flowers and leaves and grasses.Sailing on the wind to northward,Flying in great flocks, like arrows,Like huge arrows shot through heaven,Passed the swan, the Mahnahbezee,Speaking almost as a man speaks,And in long lines waving, bendingLike a bow-string snapped asunder,The white goose, Waw-bewawa:And the pairs or singly flying,Mahng the loon, with clangorous pinions,The blue heron, the shuh-shuh-gah,And the grouse, the Mushkodasa.In the tickets and the meadowsPined the bluebird the owaissa,On the summit of the lodgesSang the robin, the Opechee,And the sorrowing Hiawatha,Speechless in his infinite sorrow,Heard their voices calling to him,Went forth from his gloomy doorway,Stood and gazed into the heaven,Gazed upon the earth and waters.Chorus.From his wanderings far to eastward,From the regions of the morning,From the shining land of Wabun,*Homeward now returned Iagoo,The great traveler, the great boaster,full of new and strange adventures,Marvels many and many wonders,And the people of the villageListened to him as he told themOf his marvellous adventures,Laughing answered him in this wise:"Ugh! it is indeed Iagoo!No one else beholds such wonders!"Tenor Solo And Chorus.He had seen, he said, a waterBigger than the Big-Sea-Water,Broader than the Gitche Gumee,Bitter so that none could drink it!At each other looked the warriors,Looked the women at each other,Smiled, and said, "It cannot be so!Kaw!" they said, "It cannot be so!""O'er" said he, "this waterCame a great canoe with pinions,A canoe with wings came flying,Bigger than a grove of pine trees,Taller than the tallest tree tops!And the old men and the womenLooked and tittered at each other,"Kaw!" they said, "we don't believe it!"From its mouth, he said, to greet him,Came Waywassimo, the lightning,Came the thunder, Annemeekee!And the warriors and the womenLaughed aloud at poor Iagoo"Kaw," they they, "what tales you tell us!"In the great canoe with pinionsCame a hundred warriorspainted white were all their facesAnd with hair their chins were covered.And the warriors and the womenLaughed and shouted in derision,Like the ravens on the tree-tops,Like the crows upon the hemlocks."Kaw!" they said, "what lies you tell us!Do not think that we believe them!"Chorus.Only Hiawatha laughed not,BUt he gravely spake and answeredTo their jeering and their jesting:Barytone Solo."True is all iagoo tells us;I have seen it in a vision,Seen the great canoe with pinions,Seen the people with white faces,Seen the coming of this beardedPeople of the wooden vesselFrom the regions of the morning,From the shining land of Wabun."Gitche Manito, the Mighty,The great Spirit, the Creator,Sends them hither on his errand,Sends them to us with his message,Whereso'er they move, before themSwarms the stinging fly, the Ahmo.Swarms the bee, the honey-maker;Whereso'er they tread, beneath themSprings a flower unknown among us,Springs the White-man's Foot in blossom."Let us welcome, then, the strangers,Hail them as our friends and brothers,And the heart's right hand of fsriendship 00097Give them when they come to see us.Gitche Manito, the mighty,Said this to me in my vision."I beheld, too, in that visionAll the secrets of the future,Of the distant days that shall be.I beheld the westward marchesOf the unknown, crowded nations.All the land was full of people,Restless, struggling, toiling, striving,Speaking many tongues, yet feelingBut one heart-beat in their bosoms.In the woodlands rang their axes,Smoked their towns in all the valleys,Over all the lakes and riversRushed their great canoes of thunder,"Then a darker, drearier visionPassed before me, vague and cloudlikeI beheld our nation scattered,All forgetful of my counsels,Weakened, warring with each other;Saw the remnants of our peopleSweeping westward, wild and woful,Like the could-rack of a tempest,Like the withered leaves of Autumn!"Chorus.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 forestPassed in golden swarms 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 its bosom leaped the sturgeon,Sparkling, flashing in the sunshine;On its margin the great forestStood reflected in the water,Every tree-top had its shadow,Motionless beneath the water.Soprano Solo.From the brow of HiawathaGone was every trace of sorrow,As the fog from off the water,As the mist from of the meadow,With a look of exultation.As of one who in a visionSees what is to be, but is not,Stood and waited Hiawatha.Toward the sun his hands were lifted,Both the palms spread out against it,And between the parted fingersFell the sunshine on his features.Flecked with light his naked shoulders,As it falls and flecks an oak-treeThrough the rifted leaves and branches.O'er the water floating, flying,Something in the hazy distance,Something in the mists of morning,Loomed and lifted from the water,Now seemed floating, now seemed flyingcoming nearer, nearer, nearer.Was it Shingebis the diver?Was it the pelican, the Shada?Or the heron, the shuh-shuh-gah?Or the white goose, Waw-be-wawa,With the water dripping, flashing,From its glossy neck and feathers?* * * * * * *Chorus And Barytone Solo.Then the joyous HiawathaCried aloud and spake in this wise:Barytone Solo.Beautiful is the sun, O strangers,When you come so far to see us!All our doors stand open for youYou shall enter all our wig wams,For the heart's right hand we give you."Never bloomed the earth so gayly,Never shone the sun so brightly,As to-day they shine and blossomWhen you come so far to see us!Never was our lake so tranquil,Nor so free from rocks and sand-bars;For your birch canoe in passingHas removed both rock and sand-bar."Never before had our tobaccoSuch a sweet and pleasant flavor,Never the broad leaves of our cornfieldsWere so beautiful to look on,As they seem to us this morning,When you come so far to see us!"Tenor Solo And Chorus.And the Black-Robe chief made answer,Stammered in his speech a little,Speaking words yet unfamiliar:"Peace be with you, Hiawatha,Peace be with you and your people,Peace of prayer, and peace of pardon,Peace of Christ, and joy of Mary!"* * * * * * * * *Then the Black-Robe chief, the prophet,Told his message to the people,Told the purport of his mission,Told them of the Virgin Mary,And her blessed Son, the Saviour,Hew in distant lands and agesHe had lived on earth as we do;How he fasted, prayed, and labored;How the Jews, the tribe accursed,Mocked him, scourged him, crucified him;How he rose from where they laid him,Walked again with his disciples,And ascended into heaven.00108Male Chorus.And the chiefs made answer saying,"We have listened to your message,We have heard your words of wisdom,We will think on what you tell us,It is well for us, O brothers,That you come so far to see us!"* * * * * * * * *Chorus And Barytone Solo.From his place rose Hiawatha,Blade farewell to old Nokomis,spake in whispers, spake in this wise,Did not wake the guests that slumbered:"I am going, O Nokomis,On a long and distant journey,To the portals of the sunset,To the regions of the home-wind,But these guests I leave behind me,In your watch and ward I leave them;See that never fear molests them,Never want of food or shelter,In the lodge of Hiawatha!"Forth into the village went he,Bade farewell to all the warriors,Bade farewell to all the young men,spake persuading, spake in this wise:Barytone Solo."I am going, O my people,On a long and distant journey;Many moons and many wintersWill have come, and will have vanishedEre I come again to see you.But my guests I leave behind me;Listen to their words of wisdom,Listen to the truth they tell you,For the Master of Life has sent themFrom the land of light and morning!"Chorus.On the shore stood Hiawatha,Turned and waved his hand at parting;On the clear and luminous waterLaunched his birch canoe for sailing,From the pebbles of the marginShoved it forth into the water;Whispered to it, "Westward! westward,"And with speed it darted forward.And the evening sun descendingSet the clouds on fire with redness,Burned the broad sky, like a prairie,Left upon the level waterOne long track and trail of splendor,Down whose stream as down a river,Westward, westward HiawathaSailed into the fiery sunset,Sailed into the purple vapors,Sailed with the dusk of evening.And the people from the marginWatched him floating, rising, sinking,Till the birch canoe seemed liftedHigh into that sea of splendour,Till it sank into the vaporsLike the new moon slowly, slowlySinking in the purple distanceAnd they said, "Farewell forever!"Said, "Farewell, O Hiawatha!"And the forests, dark and lonely,Moved through all their depths of darkness,Sighed, "Farewell, O Hiawatha!"And the waves upon the marginRising, rippling on the pebbles,Sobbed, "Farewell, O Hiawatha!"And the heron, the Shuh-shuh-gah,From her haunts among the fen-lands,Screamed, "Farewell, O Hiawatha!"Thus departed Hiawatha,Hiawatha the beloved,In the glory of the sunset,In the purple mists of evening,To the regions of the home-wind,Of the Northwest wind Keewaydin,To the islands of the Blessed,To the kingdom of Ponemah,To the land of the Hereafter!

*Wabun, The East.*Gitche Gumee--Lake Superior.