A Poem

I have always loved the cadence of this poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. I have no idea whether it is critcally acclaimed or not, but I like it for its rhythm and imagery. It's called "The Song of Hiawatha" and my father used to recite it to me when I was a child -- this one, and "Casey at the Bat" by Ernest Thayer and "I Think That I Shall Never See a Poem as Lovely as a Tree" by Joyce Kilmer.
		By the shore of Gitchie 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 shown 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, And 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.