‘“Plums from balata [{335i}] and mombin, [{335j}]
Tania, [{335k}] manioc, [{335l}] water-vine; [{335m}]
Let you fell my slim manacques, [{335n}]
Tap my sweet morichè wine. [{335o}]
‘“Sent rich plantains, [{336a}] food of angels;
Rich ananas, [{336b}] food of kings;
Grudged you none of all my treasures:
Save these lovely useless things.”
‘But the Chaymas’ ears were deafened;
Blind their eyes, and could not see
How a blissful Indian’s spirit
Lived in every colibri.
‘Lived, forgetting toil and sorrow,
Ever fair and ever new;
Whirring round the dear old woodland,
Feeding on the honey-dew.
‘Till one evening roared the earthquake:
Monkeys howled, and parrots screamed:
And the Guaraons at morning
Gathered here, as men who dreamed.
‘Sunk were gardens, sunk ajoupas;
Hut and hammock, man and hound:
And above the Chayma village
Boiled with pitch the cursed ground.
‘Full, and too full; safe, and too safe;
Negro man, take care, take care.
He that wantons with God’s bounties
Of God’s wrath had best beware.
‘For the saucy, reckless, heartless,
Evil days are sure in store.
You may see the Negro sinking
As the Chayma sank of yore.’
Loudly laughed that stalwart hunter—
‘Eh, what superstitious talk!
Nyam [{337}] am nyam, an’ maney maney;
Birds am birds, like park am park;
An’ dere’s twenty thousand birdskins
Ardered jes’ now fram New Yark.’
Eversley, 1870.