Spread serene and calm before him, 

 And the sunshine and the shadows 

 Fell in flecks and gleams upon him, 

 Fell in little shining patches, 

 Through the waving, rustling branches. 



From the bottom rose the beavers, 

 Silently above the surface 

 Rose one head and then another, 

 Till the pond seemed full of beavers, 

 Full of black and shining faces. 



To the beavers Pau-Puk-Keewis 

 Spake entreating, said in this wise: 

 'Very pleasant is your dwelling, 

 O my friends! and safe from danger; 

 Can you not with all your cunning, 

 All your wisdom and contrivance, 

 Change me, too, into a beaver?" 



"Yes!" replied Ahmeek, the beaver, 

 He the king of all the beavers, 

 "Let yourself slide down among us, 

 Down into the tranquil water." 



Down into the pond among them 

 Silently sank Pau-Puk-Keewis; 

 Black became his shirt of deer-skin, 

 Black his moccasins and leggins, 

 In a broad black tail behind him 

 Spread his fox-tails and his fringes; 

 He was changed into a beaver. 



— Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, "The Song of Hiawatha." 



What rosy pearls, bright-zoned or striped! 



What freckled surface, iris-dyed! 

 Fluted and grooved, with iv'ry lips, 



Spotted like panthers, peacock-eyed! 



Look closer, as the angels can, 



And you will see the fairy work — 

 The ruby specks, the azure veins, 



That in the tiniest hollow lurk. 



—Walter Thornbury, " Shells." 



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