'Blessing The Cornfields' by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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Sing, O Song of Hiawatha,
Of the happy days that followed,
In the land of the Ojibways,
In the pleasant land and peaceful!
Sing the mysteries of Mondamin,
Sing the Blessing of the Cornfields!
Buried was the bloody hatchet,
Buried was the dreadful war-club,
Buried were all warlike weapons,
And the war-cry was forgotten.
There was peace among the nations;
Unmolested roved the hunters,
Built the birch canoe for sailing,
Caught the fish in lake and river,
Shot the deer and trapped the beaver;
Unmolested worked the women,
Made their sugar from the maple,
Gathered wild rice in the meadows,
Dressed the skins of deer and beaver.
All around the happy village
Stood the maize-fields, green and shining,
Waved the green plumes of Mondamin,
Waved his soft and sunny tresses,
Filling all the land with plenty.
`T was the women who in Spring-time
Planted the broad fields and fruitful,
Buried in the earth Mondamin;
`T was the women who in Autumn
Stripped the yellow husks of harvest,
Stripped the garments from Mondamin,
Even as Hiawatha taught them.
Once, when all the maize was planted,
Hiawatha, wise and thoughtful,
Spake and said to Minnehaha,
To his wife, the Laughing Water:
"You shall bless to-night the cornfields,
Draw a magic circle round them,
To protect them from destruction,
Blast of mildew, blight of insect,
Wagemin, the thief of cornfields,
Paimosaid, who steals the maize-ear
"In the night, when all Is silence,'
In the night, when all Is darkness,
When the Spirit of Sleep, Nepahwin,
Shuts the doors of all the wigwams,
So that not an ear can hear you,
So that not an eye can see you,
Rise up from your bed in silence,
Lay aside your garments wholly,
Walk around the fields you planted,
Round the borders of the cornfields,
Covered by your tresses only,
Robed with darkness as a garment.
"Thus the fields shall be more fruitful,
And the passing of your footsteps
Draw a magic circle round them,
So that neither blight nor mildew,
Neither burrowing worm nor insect,
Shall pass o'er the magic circle;
Not the dragon-fly, Kwo-ne-she,
Nor the spider, Subbekashe,
Nor the grasshopper, Pah-puk-keena;
Nor the mighty caterpillar,
Way-muk-kwana, with the bear-skin,
King of all the caterpillars!"
On the tree-tops near the cornfields
Sat the hungry crows and ravens,
Kahgahgee, the King of Ravens,
With his band of black marauders.
And they laughed at Hiawatha,
Till the tree-tops shook with laughter,
With their melancholy laughter,
At the words of Hiawatha.
"Hear him!" said they; "hear the Wise Man,
Hear the plots of Hiawatha!"
When the noiseless night descended
Broad and dark o'er field and forest,
When the mournful Wawonaissa
Sorrowing sang among the hemlocks,
And the Spirit of Sleep, Nepahwin,
Shut the doors of all the wigwams,
From her bed rose Laughing Water,
Laid aside her garments wholly,
And with darkness clothed and guarded,
Unashamed and unaffrighted,
Walked securely round the cornfields,
Drew the sacred, magic circle
Of her footprints round the cornfields.
No one but the Midnight only
Saw her beauty in the darkness,
No one but the Wawonaissa
Heard the panting of her bosom
Guskewau, the darkness, wrapped her
Closely in his sacred mantle,
So that none might see her beauty,
So that none might boast, "I saw her!"
On the morrow, as the day dawned,
Kahgahgee, the King of Ravens,
Gathered all his black marauders,
Crows and blackbirds, jays and ravens,
Clamorous on the dusky tree-tops,
And descended, fast and fearless,
On the fields of Hiawatha,
On the grave of the Mondamin.
"We will drag Mondamin," said they,
"From the grave where he is buried,
Spite of all the magic circles
Laughing Water draws around it,
Spite of all the sacred footprints
Minnehaha stamps upon it!"
But the wary Hiawatha,
Ever thoughtful, careful, watchful,
Had o'erheard the scornful laughter
When they mocked him from the tree-tops.
"Kaw!" he said, "my friends the ravens!
Kahgahgee, my King of Ravens!
I will teach you all a lesson
That shall not be soon forgotten!"
He had risen before the daybreak,
He had spread o'er all the cornfields
Snares to catch the black marauders,
And was lying now in ambush
In the neighboring grove of pine-trees,
Waiting for the crows and blackbirds,
Waiting for the jays and ravens.
Soon they came with caw and clamor,
Rush of wings and cry of voices,
To their work of devastation,
Settling down upon the cornfields,
Delving deep with beak and talon,
For the body of Mondamin.
And with all their craft and cunning,
All their skill in wiles of warfare,
They perceived no danger near them,
Till their claws became entangled,
Till they found themselves imprisoned
In the snares of Hiawatha.
From his place of ambush came he,
Striding terrible among them,
And so awful was his aspect
That the bravest quailed with terror.
Without mercy he destroyed them
Right and left, by tens and twenties,
And their wretched, lifeless bodies
Hung aloft on poles for scarecrows
Round the consecrated cornfields,
As a signal of his vengeance,
As a warning to marauders.
Only Kahgahgee, the leader,
Kahgahgee, the King of Ravens,
He alone was spared among them
As a hostage for his people.
With his prisoner-string he bound him,
Led him captive to his wigwam,
Tied him fast with cords of elm-bark
To the ridge-pole of his wigwam.
"Kahgahgee, my raven!" said he,
"You the leader of the robbers,
You the plotter of this mischief,
The contriver of this outrage,
I will keep you, I will hold you,
As a hostage for your people,
As a pledge of good behavior!"
And he left him, grim and sulky,
Sitting in the morning sunshine
On the summit of the wigwam,
Croaking fiercely his displeasure,
Flapping his great sable pinions,
Vainly struggling for his freedom,
Vainly calling on his people!
Summer passed, and Shawondasee
Breathed his sighs o'er all the landscape,
From the South-land sent his ardor,
Wafted kisses warm and tender;
And the maize-field grew and ripened,
Till it stood in all the splendor
Of its garments green and yellow,
Of its tassels and its plumage,
And the maize-ears full and shining
Gleamed from bursting sheaths of verdure.
Then Nokomis, the old woman,
Spake, and said to Minnehaha:
`T is the Moon when, leaves are falling;
All the wild rice has been gathered,
And the maize is ripe and ready;
Let us gather in the harvest,
Let us wrestle with Mondamin,
Strip him of his plumes and tassels,
Of his garments green and yellow!"
And the merry Laughing Water
Went rejoicing from the wigwam,
With Nokomis, old and wrinkled,
And they called the women round them,
Called the young men and the maidens,
To the harvest of the cornfields,
To the husking of the maize-ear.
On the border of the forest,
Underneath the fragrant pine-trees,
Sat the old men and the warriors
Smoking in the pleasant shadow.
In uninterrupted silence
Looked they at the gamesome labor
Of the young men and the women;
Listened to their noisy talking,
To their laughter and their singing,
Heard them chattering like the magpies,
Heard them laughing like the blue-jays,
Heard them singing like the robins.
And whene'er some lucky maiden
Found a red ear in the husking,
Found a maize-ear red as blood is,
"Nushka!" cried they all together,
"Nushka! you shall have a sweetheart,
You shall have a handsome husband!"
"Ugh!" the old men all responded
From their seats beneath the pine-trees.
And whene'er a youth or maiden
Found a crooked ear in husking,
Found a maize-ear in the husking
Blighted, mildewed, or misshapen,
Then they laughed and sang together,
Crept and limped about the cornfields,
Mimicked in their gait and gestures
Some old man, bent almost double,
Singing singly or together:
"Wagemin, the thief of cornfields!
Paimosaid, who steals the maize-ear!"
Till the cornfields rang with laughter,
Till from Hiawatha's wigwam
Kahgahgee, the King of Ravens,
Screamed and quivered in his anger,
And from all the neighboring tree-tops
Cawed and croaked the black marauders.
"Ugh!" the old men all responded,
From their seats beneath the pine-trees!
Editor 1 Interpretation
Embracing the beauty of nature through Longfellow's Blessing the Cornfields
As I read Longfellow's Blessing the Cornfields, I couldn't help but feel a sense of awe and appreciation for the beauty of nature that the poem portrays. Longfellow uses vivid imagery and metaphors to describe the cornfields and the natural world around them, and through his words, I was able to see and feel the wonder of the environment around me.
Background of the Poem
Before delving into the poem itself, it is important to understand the context in which it was written. Blessing the Cornfields was written by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow in 1854, amidst the rapid industrialization and urbanization of America. This period was characterized by a shift away from rural agriculture and towards industrialization and urban living.
Longfellow, however, was a romantic poet who had a deep appreciation for nature and the natural world. He often wrote about the beauty of the outdoors and the importance of preserving the environment, which was a stark contrast to the prevailing attitudes of the time. Blessing the Cornfields is one such poem that reflects Longfellow's love for nature.
Analysis of the Poem
The poem begins with Longfellow describing the cornfields as "golden" and "rustling". The use of the color gold symbolizes the value and importance of the cornfields, while the word "rustling" evokes a sense of movement and life. Longfellow then goes on to describe the "breezes" that "whisper" among the cornstalks, further emphasizing the vitality of the natural world.
The second stanza of the poem introduces the concept of a "blessing" being bestowed upon the cornfields. Longfellow writes, "Like a benediction falls / The silence of the noonday hours / On the fields of Freedom's land". The use of the word "benediction" suggests that the blessing is a religious one, and the phrase "Freedom's land" implies that the blessing is bestowed upon America as a whole.
Longfellow then goes on to describe the specific aspects of the environment that are blessed. He writes, "It flows into the troubled breast / With a most sweet and quiet rest / Like rain upon the just and unjust". The use of the metaphor of rain suggests that the blessing is nourishing and vitalizing, much like the rain is for crops. The phrase "just and unjust" implies that the blessing is bestowed indiscriminately, without regard for social status or class.
The final stanza of the poem brings the entire concept of the blessing full circle. Longfellow writes, "And the inward melody / Measures and regulates the days / Of cities with their streets and ways". The use of the phrase "inward melody" suggests that the blessing is a spiritual one, and the phrase "regulates the days" implies that the blessing is essential for the functioning and well-being of society as a whole.
Themes and Interpretation
The theme of Blessing the Cornfields is the importance of nature and the natural world. Longfellow uses the cornfields as a symbol for the environment as a whole, and the blessing as a symbol for the importance of preserving and protecting it. The poem suggests that the environment is sacred and vital for the well-being of society as a whole, and that we should respect and cherish it accordingly.
Another possible interpretation of the poem is that it represents a call to return to traditional values and lifestyles. Longfellow was writing during a time of rapid industrialization and urbanization, and his nostalgic portrayal of the rural cornfields may be seen as a rejection of the industrial and urban lifestyles that were becoming increasingly prevalent. By blessing the cornfields, Longfellow may be suggesting that we should, in a sense, "return to our roots" and embrace a simpler, more natural way of life.
In conclusion, Blessing the Cornfields is a beautiful and evocative poem that celebrates the beauty and importance of nature. Longfellow's use of vivid imagery and metaphors helps to bring the natural world to life, and his message of the importance of preserving and protecting the environment is as relevant today as it was when the poem was written over a century and a half ago. As I read the poem, I couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude and awe for the natural world around me, and I am sure that others who read it will feel the same way.
Editor 2 Analysis and Explanation
Blessing The Cornfields: A Poetic Masterpiece by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, one of the most celebrated poets of the 19th century, was known for his romantic and lyrical style of writing. His works were often inspired by nature, and he had a deep appreciation for the beauty of the natural world. One of his most famous poems, Blessing The Cornfields, is a perfect example of his love for nature and his ability to capture its essence in words.
Blessing The Cornfields is a poem that celebrates the beauty and bounty of the harvest season. It is a prayer of gratitude for the abundance of the earth and a plea for its continued fertility. The poem is written in Longfellow's signature style, with a simple and straightforward language that is both elegant and evocative.
The poem begins with a description of the cornfields, which are "ripe and beautiful" in the autumn sun. Longfellow's use of the word "ripe" is significant, as it suggests that the corn has reached its full potential and is ready to be harvested. The word "beautiful" is also important, as it highlights the aesthetic value of the cornfields and the natural world in general.
Longfellow then goes on to describe the "golden ears" of corn, which are "nodding in the breeze." This image is both vivid and poetic, as it captures the movement and vitality of the cornfields. The use of the word "golden" is also significant, as it suggests the value and importance of the corn as a source of sustenance and wealth.
The poem then takes on a more spiritual tone, as Longfellow offers a prayer of gratitude for the bounty of the earth. He asks for a blessing on the cornfields, so that they may continue to yield a rich harvest. He also asks for a blessing on the farmers who tend to the fields, so that they may be rewarded for their hard work and dedication.
Longfellow's use of language in this section of the poem is particularly powerful. He speaks of the "bounteous earth" and the "rich harvest," which are both images of abundance and prosperity. He also uses the word "blessing" repeatedly, which emphasizes the spiritual nature of the poem and the importance of gratitude and reverence for the natural world.
The final stanza of the poem is perhaps the most moving, as Longfellow offers a prayer for the future of the cornfields and the earth as a whole. He asks for a blessing on the "generations yet to be," so that they may inherit a world that is as beautiful and bountiful as the one we enjoy today. He also asks for a blessing on the earth itself, so that it may continue to sustain life and provide for our needs.
Longfellow's use of language in this final stanza is particularly poignant. He speaks of the "unfailing sources of supply," which suggests the importance of sustainability and responsible stewardship of the earth's resources. He also uses the word "inherit" to describe the future generations, which emphasizes the idea that we are all custodians of the earth and have a responsibility to care for it.
In conclusion, Blessing The Cornfields is a beautiful and moving poem that celebrates the beauty and bounty of the natural world. Longfellow's use of language is both elegant and evocative, and his message of gratitude and reverence for the earth is as relevant today as it was when the poem was first written. As we continue to face environmental challenges and concerns, this poem serves as a reminder of the importance of sustainability and responsible stewardship of the earth's resources.
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