How Like They Are To Human Things!

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!

Fortune Comes Well To All That Comes Not Late.

Chill Air And Wintry Winds! My Ear Has Grown Familiar With Your Song; I Hear It In The Opening Year, I Listen, And It Cheers Me Long.

It Is The Heart And Not The Brain, That To The Highest Doth Attain.

In Youth All Doors Open Outward; In Old Age All Open Inward.