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 |  | Monday November 23, 2009 2:47 AM |
 | | Poetry and Songs by Native Americans | |
I was chief
Here I was chief ere coming of the white man; now is his village spread from this sea beyond my sight. His canoes are floating villages; they go by with a great noise and black smoke. His deeds are mighty; they lead with roaring clouds and thunder-fires into the blue quiet morning and the white moon-sky.
(?)
from The Path on the Rainbow: An Anthology of Songs and Chants from The Indians of North America,
edited by George W. Cronyn, Boni & Liveright, 1918 and 1934 |
Last Updated December 23, 2004
 
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