Of course there was parallelism in Western poetry, and all arts of repetition, before anybody knew anything about the “Kalevala.”  The most poetical part of Bible English, as I said, whether in the Bible itself or in the Book of Common Prayer, depends almost entirely for its literary effect upon parallelism, because the old Hebrews, like the old Finns, practised this art of expression.  Loosely and vaguely it was practised also by many poets almost unconsciously, who had been particularly influenced by the splendour of the scriptural translation.  It had figured in prose-poetry as early as the time of Sir Thomas Browne.  It had established quite a new idea of poetry even in America, where the great American poet Poe introduced it into his compositions before Longfellow studied the “Kalevala.”  I told you that the work of Poe, small as it is, had influenced almost every poet of the great epoch, including Tennyson and the Victorian masters.  But the work even of Poe was rather instinctive than the result of any systematic idea.  The systematic idea was best illustrated when the study of the “Kalevala” began.

Let us see how Longfellow used the suggestion; but remember that he was only a beginner, dealing with something entirely new—­that he did not have the strength of Tennyson nor the magical genius of Swinburne to help him.  He worked very simply, and probably very rapidly.  There is a good deal of his song of “Hiawatha” that is scarcely worthy of praise, and it is difficult to quote effectively from it, because the charm of the thing depends chiefly upon its reading as a whole.  Nevertheless there are parts which so well show or imitate the Finnish spirit, that I must try to quote them.  Take for instance the teaching of the little Indian child by his grandmother—­such verses as these, where she talks to the little boy about the milky way in the sky: 

  Many things Nokomis taught him
  Of the stars that shine in heaven;
  Showed him Ishkoodah, the comet,
  Ishkoodah, with fiery tresses;
  Showed the Death-Dance of the spirits,
  Warriors with their plumes and war-clubs,
  Flaring far away to northward
  In the frosty nights of Winter;
  Showed the broad, white road in heaven,
  Pathway of the ghosts, the shadows,
  Running straight across the heavens,
  Crowded with the ghosts, the shadows.

Or take again the story of the origin of the flower commonly called
“Dandelion”: 

  In his life he had one shadow,
  In his heart one sorrow had he. 
  Once, as he was gazing northward,
  Far away upon a prairie
  He beheld a maiden standing,
  Saw a tall and slender maiden
  All alone upon a prairie;
  Brightest green were all her garments
  And her hair was like the sunshine. 
  Day by day he gazed upon her,
  Day by day he sighed with passion,
  Day by day his heart within him
  Grew more hot with love and longing
  For the maid with yellow tresses.