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HIAWATHA'S DEPARTURE by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow: Summary, Meaning & Analysis

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Hiawatha, a revered Native American leader, stands on the shores of Lake Superior, greeting Christian missionaries as they arrive by canoe from the east.

The poem
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 forest Passed 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 forest Stood reflected in the water, Every tree-top had its shadow, Motionless beneath the water. From the brow of Hiawatha Gone was every trace of sorrow, As the fog from off the water, As the mist from off the meadow. With a smile of joy and triumph, With a look of exultation, As of one who in a vision Sees 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 fingers Fell the sunshine on his features, Flecked with light his naked shoulders, As it falls and flecks an oak-tree Through 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 flying, Coming nearer, nearer, nearer. Was it Shingebis the diver? Or 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? It was neither goose nor diver, Neither pelican nor heron, O'er the water floating, flying, Through the shining mist of morning, But a birch canoe with paddles, Rising, sinking on the water, Dripping, flashing in the sunshine; And within it came a people From the distant land of Wabun, From the farthest realms of morning Came the Black-Robe chief, the Prophet, He the Priest of Prayer, the Pale-face, With his guides and his companions. And the noble Hiawatha, With his hands aloft extended, Held aloft in sign of welcome, Waited, full of exultation, Till the birch canoe with paddles Grated on the shining pebbles, Stranded on the sandy margin, Till the Black-Robe chief, the Pale-face, With the cross upon his bosom, Landed on the sandy margin. Then the joyous Hiawatha Cried aloud and spake in this wise: "Beautiful is the sun, O strangers, When you come so far to see us! All our town in peace awaits you, All our doors stand open for you; You shall enter all our wigwams, 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 blossom When 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 passing Has removed both rock and sand-bar. "Never before had our tobacco Such a sweet and pleasant flavor, Never the broad leaves of our cornfields Were so beautiful to look on, As they seem to us this morning, When you come so far to see us!' 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 generous Hiawatha Led the strangers to his wigwam, Seated them on skins of bison, Seated them on skins of ermine, And the careful old Nokomis Brought them food in bowls of basswood, Water brought in birchen dippers, And the calumet, the peace-pipe, Filled and lighted for their smoking. All the old men of the village, All the warriors of the nation, All the Jossakeeds, the Prophets, The magicians, the Wabenos, And the Medicine-men, the Medas, Came to bid the strangers welcome; "It is well", they said, "O brothers, That you come so far to see us!" In a circle round the doorway, With their pipes they sat in silence, Waiting to behold the strangers, Waiting to receive their message; Till the Black-Robe chief, the Pale-face, From the wigwam came to greet them, Stammering in his speech a little, Speaking words yet unfamiliar; "It is well," they said, "O brother, That you come so far to see us!" 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, How in distant lands and ages He 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. 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!" Then they rose up and departed Each one homeward to his wigwam, To the young men and the women Told the story of the strangers Whom the Master of Life had sent them From the shining land of Wabun. Heavy with the heat and silence Grew the afternoon of Summer; With a drowsy sound the forest Whispered round the sultry wigwam, With a sound of sleep the water Rippled on the beach below it; From the cornfields shrill and ceaseless Sang the grasshopper, Pah-puk-keena; And the guests of Hiawatha, Weary with the heat of Summer, Slumbered in the sultry wigwam. Slowly o'er the simmering landscape Fell the evening's dusk and coolness, And the long and level sunbeams Shot their spears into the forest, Breaking through its shields of shadow, Rushed into each secret ambush, Searched each thicket, dingle, hollow; Still the guests of Hiawatha Slumbered in the silent wigwam. From his place rose Hiawatha, Bade 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, Of the Northwest-Wind, Keewaydin. But these guests I leave behind me, In your watch and ward I leave them; See that never harm comes near them, See that never fear molests them, Never danger nor suspicion, 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: "I am going, O my people, On a long and distant journey; Many moons and many winters Will have come, and will have vanished, Ere 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 them From the land of light and morning!" On the shore stood Hiawatha, Turned and waved his hand at parting; On the clear and luminous water Launched his birch canoe for sailing, From the pebbles of the margin Shoved it forth into the water; Whispered to it, "Westward! westward!" And with speed it darted forward. And the evening sun descending Set the clouds on fire with redness, Burned the broad sky, like a prairie, Left upon the level water One long track and trail of splendor, Down whose stream, as down a river, Westward, westward Hiawatha Sailed into the fiery sunset, Sailed into the purple vapors, Sailed into the dusk of evening: And the people from the margin Watched him floating, rising, sinking, Till the birch canoe seemed lifted High into that sea of splendor, Till it sank into the vapors Like the new moon slowly, slowly Sinking in the purple distance. And 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 margin Rising, 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!

Public domain · sourced from Project Gutenberg

Quick summary
Hiawatha, a revered Native American leader, stands on the shores of Lake Superior, greeting Christian missionaries as they arrive by canoe from the east. After hosting them, listening to their message, and encouraging his people to embrace their teachings, he quietly departs in his birch canoe, gliding west into the sunset toward the land of the dead — and as he leaves, the entire world, including the forests, waves, and birds, bids him farewell.
Themes

Line-by-line

By the shore of Gitche Gumee, / By the shining Big-Sea-Water,
Longfellow begins with the famous trochaic tetrameter that propels the entire poem forward. Gitche Gumee refers to Lake Superior. The repetition of shore/water and shining/Big-Sea establishes the poem's tendency to echo ideas in pairs, inspired by the Finnish epic *Kalevala*. Everything in this setting is vibrant and dynamic: bees buzz in golden clouds, the sturgeon leaps, and the forest reflects itself flawlessly in the water. Nature is at its most lush and stunning, which heightens the sense of finality in what comes next.
From the brow of Hiawatha / Gone was every trace of sorrow,
Hiawatha's face appears free of sorrow, reminiscent of fog lifting from a lake at dawn. He stands with his palms lifted to the sun, light streaming through his fingers like it does through oak leaves. The image is subtly heroic and nearly priestly—he is already turned toward something greater than the ordinary world, envisioning what is on the horizon before it manifests.
O'er the water floating, flying, / Something in the hazy distance,
A slow, suspenseful buildup unfolds as Longfellow enumerates the possible birds the shape could be — diver, pelican, heron, white goose — before finally disclosing that it is a birch canoe. The repeated phrase 'nearer, nearer, nearer' captures the canoe's slow approach. The passengers aboard are Christian missionaries, referred to as 'the Black-Robe chief, the Pale-face,' journeying from the east, the land of morning.
And the noble Hiawatha, / With his hands aloft extended,
Hiawatha greets the missionaries warmly, with his hands raised high in welcome. He invites them to sit on bison and ermine skins, while Nokomis brings them food and water. The peace pipe is lit, and the entire village gathers in respectful silence. The welcome is both extravagant and heartfelt. In his three-stanza speech, Hiawatha emphasizes that the world has never seemed as beautiful as it does on the day the strangers arrived.
Then the Black-Robe chief, the Prophet, / Told his message to the people,
The missionary shares the story of Jesus — covering his life, crucifixion, resurrection, and ascension. The chiefs reply with polite and measured courtesy: 'We have listened to your message, and we will consider what you’ve said.' Longfellow depicts this meeting as peaceful and reciprocal, yet contemporary readers may see the imbalance: the missionaries aim to transform everything, while Hiawatha is already aware that he will depart.
Heavy with the heat and silence / Grew the afternoon of Summer;
The poem drifts into a sleepy afternoon. The guests rest in the wigwam as the grasshopper chirps and the forest murmurs around them. Then, evening arrives, with sunbeams cutting through the shadows like spears — a fleeting martial image in an otherwise serene setting. Hiawatha gets up while his guests are still asleep.
From his place rose Hiawatha, / Bade farewell to old Nokomis,
Hiawatha quietly says goodbye to his grandmother, Nokomis, making sure not to disturb the guests. He informs her that he is heading to "the portals of the Sunset," indicating that this is a journey toward death rather than just a simple trip. He asks her to look after the missionaries. As he walks through the village, he bids farewell to both warriors and young men, encouraging them to heed the wisdom of the strangers.
On the shore stood Hiawatha, / Turned and waved his hand at parting;
The departure is one of the most visually stunning moments in 19th-century American poetry. Hiawatha steers his canoe westward into a sunset that ignites the clouds. He glides into the fiery hues, the purple mists, the twilight — and the canoe gently rises and falls until it vanishes like a crescent moon sinking below the horizon. The entire world grieves: the people on the shore, the trees, the waves, and the heron all call out, 'Farewell, O Hiawatha!'

Tone & mood

Ceremonial and mournful, the poem follows a steady, drum-like rhythm thanks to its trochaic tetrameter, which lends even the simplest lines a sense of ritual importance. The opening stanzas feel joyful and bright, yet there's an underlying inevitability — Hiawatha's smile hints at someone who has glimpsed the future in a vision. By the end, the tone shifts to pure lament, as the entire natural world seems to join in a farewell chorus. It avoids sentimentality because the grief is so broadly shared: rather than a single voice crying out, everything around us mourns.

Symbols & metaphors

  • The westward journey / sunsetWest symbolizes death in many Indigenous traditions, and Longfellow fully embraces this idea. Hiawatha sailing into the sunset signifies his departure from the living world toward 'the Land of the Hereafter.' The burning sky is both beautiful and a final farewell.
  • The birch canoeIt carries the arriving missionaries and the departing Hiawatha, serving as a symbol of transition and change. When Hiawatha's canoe fades into the mist, it's likened to a new moon setting—something that may come back in a new cycle, or possibly never return.
  • Light and sunshineSunshine fills the poem's opening — bees buzz in it, the sturgeon glimmers in it, light slips through Hiawatha's fingers. It captures the richness of the world Hiawatha is leaving behind. As he moves on, the light shifts into fire and then into deep purple darkness, marking his journey from life to death.
  • The Black-Robe chief / missionariesThe missionaries symbolize the introduction of European Christianity, suggesting the end of the world that Hiawatha has known. While Longfellow portrays their arrival as peaceful and almost divinely appointed, the reality is that Hiawatha departs right after welcoming them—his world and theirs simply cannot coexist.
  • The peace-pipe (calumet)Lit and shared with strangers, the calumet represents hospitality and a sacred agreement. Its presence at the welcome ceremony shows that Hiawatha's people are beginning this new relationship with good intentions.
  • The heron (Shuh-shuh-gah)The heron shows up two times: first as one of the birds that the canoe might encounter, and then as the last voice to say goodbye. It frames the poem and allows nature to have a voice in Hiawatha's tale.

Historical context

Longfellow published *The Song of Hiawatha* in 1855, the same year that Whitman released *Leaves of Grass*—two contrasting visions of American poetry. Longfellow drew inspiration from the ethnographic work of Henry Rowe Schoolcraft, who documented Ojibwe oral traditions in the 1830s and 1840s, and he adapted the poem's unique meter from the Finnish national epic *Kalevala*. "Hiawatha's Departure" is the poem's concluding canto. In it, Longfellow presents the arrival of Jesuit missionaries as an event welcomed and even orchestrated by Hiawatha himself, reflecting the paternalistic views of his time rather than the actual historical context. The poem was a massive hit during its release, selling out its first printing in just a few days. However, later generations have justifiably critiqued its romantic portrayal of Indigenous cultures and its depiction of colonization as a peaceful, divinely sanctioned transition.

FAQ

He is sailing west, heading toward death—or at least the afterlife. Longfellow refers to it as 'the Islands of the Blessed,' 'the Kingdom of Ponemah,' and 'the Land of the Hereafter.' The westward journey holds meaning: in numerous Indigenous traditions, west signifies the realm of the dead. Hiawatha isn't escaping; he is fulfilling his purpose and moving on.

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