Indian and Other Tales

INDIAN AND OTHER TALES

By M. L. HOPE
Toronto William Briggs 1911
Copyright, Canada, 1911, By M. L. Hope.


O beautiful wind of the West, In your wand'rings o'er land and sea, What have you seen in your quest? Come, tell your story to me.
In the isles of the southern seas, Where the crystal-clear ocean a melody sang To the beautiful kauri trees, I wandered the summer day through, In the forest's dappled shade, Where the graceful fern-tree bowed its head To woo the Maori maid. A nymph of the woods was she In her kiwi mantle brown; And the fern-tree wooed her with tender grace From dawn till the sun went down; But a Maori chieftain came In the glory of life's young morn, And the maiden forsook her mystic love, Leaving it sad and forlorn. But the tui-bird saw its grief, And in loving sympathy Built her beautiful, woven nest In the heart of the lonely tree.

And when its liquid notes echoed the woodland through, The fern-tree lifted its drooping head And was fresh as the morning dew; So I left them in their joy—the youth and his fairy bride, The tree with its nest of callow birds— And I crossed the ocean tide.
In the early morn I came to a land where the orchards were white With their wealth of apple blossoms, and bathed in the spring sunlight; There I found a winding road with banks where the wild-flowers grew, And through a vista of blossoming trees the sea came into view, As it sparkled in the sun and kissed the golden shore, Then laughed aloud in its mirth and ran back to the sea once more.