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Nechochwen
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October 6, 1813
With sadness deep they wept beside the stream
As the death chant intoned they laid him in the earth
Along that sweet, clear creek ('okiima rise again!)
With sadness almost too great as they left his grave
Until his great return ('okiima rise again!)
All hope is gone, it's too late to save a soul so brave
High above, a panther in the sky
May a tree of peace grow from where he laid to die
From where he laid to die, rise again
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