America | Tiger Riding for Beginners

The male is not less the soul nor more, he
   too is in his place,
 He too is all qualities, he is action and 
   power,
 The flush of the known universe is in him,
 Scorn becomes him well, and appetite and 
   defiance become him well,
 The wildest largest passions, bliss that is
   utmost, sorrow that is utmost become
   him well, pride is for him,
 The full-spread pride of man is calming and
   excellent to the soul, 
 Knowledge becomes him, he likes it always,
   he brings every thing to the test of 
   himself,
 Whatever the survey, whatever the sea and
   the sail he strikes soundings at last only 
   here,
 (Where else does he strike soundings except
   here?)

The man's body is sacred and the woman's 
   body is sacred,
 No matter who it is, it is sacred -- is it the
   meanest one in the laborers' gang?
 Is it one of the dull-faced immigrants just
   landed on the wharf?
 Each belongs here or anywhere just as much
   as the well-off, just as much as you,
 Each has his or her place in the procession.

(All is a procession,
 The universe is a procession with measured
   and perfect motion.)

Do you know so much yourself that you call
   the meanest ignorant?
 Do you suppose you have a right to a good
   sight, and he or she has no right to a
   sight?
 Do you think matter has cohered together
   from its diffuse float, and the soil is on
   the surface, and water runs and 
   vegetation sprouts,
 For you only, and not for him and her?

Long, too long America,
Traveling roads all even and peaceful you learn'd from joys and prosperity only,
But now, ah now, to learn from crises of anguish, advancing, grappling with direst fate and recoiling not,
And now to conceive and show to the world what your children en-masse really are,
(For who except myself has yet conceiv'd what your children en-masse really are?)

The Song of Hiawatha by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

Project Gutenberg edition

This epic poem borrows from American Indian folklore and legend to build a fictional life story for the protagonist, Hiawatha. (There was an actual Hiawatha, but his life story apparently in no way resembles that of Longfellow’s Hiawatha, which is good because the fictional one had to deal with ghosts, tricksters, and deities.) The poem is part hero’s trials, part love story, and part tale of the supernatural, blending real world type tragedy with an otherworldly form.

The choice of trochaic tetrameter makes the poem rhythmically readable, while evoking a drumming sound that contributes to atmospherics.

When the poem came out in the mid-19th century, it faced some controversy. It was claimed that it was a knock off of the Kalevala of Finland. Longfellow’s reply was that he was influenced by that poem’s rhythm (the Kalevala is also trochaic,) but that all the plot events where from his conversations with American Indians and researchers, thereof, (or, presumably his own imagination,) and that any coincidence of events was owing to the broad brushstrokes of them both being heroic tales.

I enjoyed reading this poem and would highly recommend it for poetry readers and lovers of American Literature.

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