On the shores,
of Lake Gitchigume,
where children would play,
came a spirit,
who would not stay away.
A kindred spirit,
of a native man, at play,
who remembering,
his youth,
like only he can.
Times were fresh not uncouth.
The access to the
land would always be free,
for it belonged to all,
even you and me.
Fear not the spirit,
for he was the host,
representing us all,
as our own human ghost.