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The
White Wampum
by
Emily Pauline Johnson
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Epigraph
and Author’s Note
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“And
few today remain;
But copper-tinted face
and smouldering fire
Of wilder life, were
left me by my sire
To be my proudest claim.”
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As wampums to the Redman,
so to the Poet are his songs; chiselled alike from
that which is the purest of his possessions, woven
alike with meaning into belt and book, fraught alike
with the corresponding message of peace, the breathing
of tradition, the value of more than coin, and the
seal of fellowship with all men.
So do I offer this belt
of verse-wampum to those two who have taught me
most of its spirit—my Mother, whose encouragement
has been my mainstay in its weaving; my Father,
whose feet have long since wandered to the Happy
Hunting Grounds.
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E.P.J.
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