In the land
Where history is but a charming tale
Droned by old men at twilight, future days
Pleasantly certain as the next repast,
Where gods and goddesses appear as birds,
Trees, plants or moonlight, gently rising tide,
And shining girdle of leaves,—all homely things,
Which hold the people's hearts.—In this fair land
Taka was born. Thro' sixteen years of moon
And tropic sun she blossomed in the air.
Chilled by no frost, the world unconsciously
Mirrored her sweetness back to her. The sun
Had kissed her skin to a warm topaz; rare
As dusky wealth of Autumn, her sweet breast,
Gleaming and bare, was hung with ropes of flowers
Yellow and white, and in her curling hair
Glimmered the pure gardenia. All the braves
Wished her for wife, but old Akau the chief,
Knowing Uhila's prowess and the blood
Left by an English forbear in his veins,
Knowing that Taka too could boast, or mourn,
A foreign ancestry, had lately pledged
His daughter to this brave, and now the village
Made preparations for the marriage. There
By the warm sea the maidens paid their court
To Taka, who so soon would leave their gay
Indifferent frolic lives to wed the grave
Stern chief. She did not falter at the choice.
Love which the maidens sang was but a word;
She wished no better fate than to be mated
To a strong warrior whom her heart held dear
As friend to kind Akau. So she waited.
In her slim hands she held a polished cup,
The shell of cocoanut, which caught the light
Like a brown pool. The toil of many days
Had turned the tawny shade to warmest black
In gradual depths as shaded Taka's cheek;
With perfumed oil her fingers gave caress
And waked the hidden pictures in the grain,
The yellow sand, the dusky amber girl,
The brown perfected in the shining globe.
Earth's monotones are justified in this.
Close to her lolled small Hopa, blithe and gay
As a young cricket, teasing all the rest
With her sharp wit; often she dropped her work—
The threading of bright flowers into wreaths—
To look across the waves, and suddenly
She called, "A sail, a little sail," and all
Followed her pointing fingers. Far away,
Tossed like a feather, black against the sky,
Hovered a tiny craft, its unknown lines
Marked it as stranger, and the maidens all
Curiously watched its coming to the shore.
All night the little shell with ceaseless dip
And pause, and rise and dip again, had borne
The trackless trade winds. Tui Tua Kau,
"King of the Reefs," had ventured over far
From Tonga's shore. Caught by a wanton gale,
His idle racing, lengthened in a whim
To cheat his laughing mates, grew a wild flight.
The frail canoe seemed, on the angry sea,
A sweet rose petal blown across the night.
Yet wisely now the winds had mind to crown
Their joyous undertaking, and upon
The shores of Fiji's isles they drew their prize.
The maidens on the shore had seen afar
The stranger's coming, and the songs were stilled
To hush of expectation. Even so
A prince might come to claim his kingdom, lone,
In a frail craft, with weary eyes, and hair
Crowned with a fading wreath, more beautiful
Than all their lovers, slender, strong and young.
With one lithe spring he gained the yellow sand
And caught the boat and drew it with a swing
High on the beach,—its movement seemed alive.
His sinewy fingers loosed the flapping sail,
Gay shells clinked musical against the mast,
And all the maidens, timorous as birds,
Laughed at the sound with shy averted face.
Then straight and slender as the cocoa palm,
Straight as its shaft and crowned with shining hair,
The stranger lifted up his head. The wreath,
Faded yet still alive thro' ocean's breath,
Drooped o'er his brows. His flashing sun-bright eyes
Struck thro' the group of girls as shoots a dart,
And caught and quivered in sweet Taka's breast.
More noble than the rest, she scorned to fear,
And graceful in her modesty she faltered,
Then came to meet and greet the stranger guest.
Erect she faced him, o'er her brow the frail
Curves of the crest she wore, antennæ-wise,
Trembled a little. As a maid beseems,
Her eyes drooped from his gaze, yet not too soon
To miss the gleam with which he caught the first
Flash of her beauty. With that glance he gained—
Half conscious of a gladness—that this maid
Was still for winning. As the custom is
Her hair fell in twin braids, and were she wed
They had been sacrificed to that estate.
Maiden she was, his eyes caressed the sign
Black o'er the topaz beauty of her breast.
The stranger spoke. "Malua am I called;
I hold for title Tui Tua Kau.
Over the violent seas, beneath the frown,
Cold and untoward, of a starless sky,
The waves of chance have borne me; thro' the night
Around me and above the pitiless trades
Were blind with darkness, blown like maiden's hair
Across my face. As palm trees beaten by wind,
The tortured breakers tossed their streaming crests,
And all the light of all my life seemed dead—
Then—morning broke, and I behold the sun!"—
He held her with his gaze and found her eyes—
"On Tonga's shore I reigned a chief, and now
I am a beggar at your mercy." Then
The young pride mounting to his cheek, he cried,
"Nay, but I jested, for I come so far
To green Kambara for a lordly bowl
Fit for the kava of a chief."
She smiled,
And with the smile Malua felt the blood
Leap in his heart, his heart inviolate
Never before so stirred 'neath woman's eyes.
"Come, then, with me," said Taka, and the beach
Stretched from their feet, a ribbon that should bind
In its white length the heaven to the earth.
With delicate step she led him to the hut
Where old Akau gave him kindly greeting.
A little in the shadow, where the gourds
And strange sweet herbs—soft musty fragrances—
Hung swinging from the beams about her head,
Taka withdrew. Her wide eyes opened wide,
And, lightly folded on her golden breast,
Her two hands lay like flowers.
In the light
Bright as a sun god sat Malua listening
With greatest reverence to the aged man,
Who spoke to him of ancient, long dead things
While he displayed his wealth of burnished cups
Out of the splendid eld. "My son," he said,
"Yours is dim future, mine the deathless past;
Heroes have died for me and yet shall die,
And all the glory of the virgin earth
Yields up its sweets to me, for now I rest
And stretch my withered sinews in the sun
And wait for peaceful death; because your lips
Are innocent, and dawn is in your eyes,
I give you of my store the fairest treasure.
After my Taka, you have won my heart."
In his strong hand he laid a bowl; for this
The ages had paid toll, soft lightnings shone
From its brown glory, carved most royally.
He raised the kava bowl aloft, the sun
Struck on its shining rim, and straight as a spear
Shivered the dusk where Taka stood. The light
Lay on her swelling throat, and showed her eyes
Starred like a tropic night. The stranger's hand
Trembled a little, and his quick-drawn breath
Carried a message from his breast to hers.
They left the hut together. From the clear
Bright heat of noon they turned, and took their way
Into the greenly silent forest. Leaves
Flickered above wet blossoms, simple sounds
Of homely labor borne upon the breeze
Made them the more alone. They spoke of Love,
A mighty word to ease the strange new pain
Born in their hearts.
Sudden the path grew wide—
A little space deprived of flowers and life—
"The house of sandal wood," said Taka, pointing,
And there, the last home of a chief, it lay.
White shells and snowy pebbles girt him round
In his great mould of clay, and all his spears
And clubs of war kept vigil, showing still
His might in battle. Shrill the parrot's scream
Rang on the desolation, and the trees
Seemed to withdraw their shadows from the place
Sacred to death, the violent crime of war.
A little shadow darkened Taka's heart,
Could this sweet world contain both death and love?
She sought Malua's eyes to be assured
That love lives always.
He had gone before
To hold the leaves for her to pass, and softly
She came, and like a golden butterfly
Her small hand fluttered down upon his arm.
He caught his breath as tho' the leaping blood
That fled before this touch were very flame,
Then slowly, slowly turned, and in her eyes
Gave up his heart's desire. No word was said.
She knew not that she loved, he only knew
She was the moon of women; but their hearts,
Wiser than they, had flowered into one.
Then as she passed beneath the swinging leaves,
He caught the wreath wherewith on Tonga's shore
The maids had crowned him "King of Love and Beauty,"
And cast it from him with a high disdain
Of token other than from Taka's hand.
She laughed to see it, and her step was light
Along the flowery way.
Love in this land
Grows into perfect stature as the swift
Sweet growth of nature. In these gracious souls
Love stood full-armed, godlike, from birth. Their lips
Whispered of life and laughter, but their hearts,
Singing together, told each other clear:
"Ah, Love, dear Love, there is no need to say,
Catch up life's song, its lightest, merriest word,
Pledge deep the golden sun, the breeze and bird,
Draw down long lashes over happy eyes,
That none may guess the light that in them lies,
Nor with what secret smile your lips are stirred.
The moonlight is so short, so long the day,
Nay, Love, dear Love, there is no need to say."
The whole world laughed with flowers overhead,
The sky a hollow sapphire ached with blue,
The green bright sea gave jewels to the sun,
And all the air was love that doting earth
Breathed to the sun, her lover.
In the midst
Two radiant gods with brave, wide eyes, and hair
Crowned with the beatific spring, they stood,—
Taka, the fair, and young Malua, fierce,
Passionate-hearted youth, and passionate youth;
Faltering before her innocent gaze, he cried,
"Dare I adore?" so crystal clear she seemed
A silver dewdrop in the rose of dawn.
And Taka, trembling: "How can he be mine,
So strong, so fair, a god with heart of flame!"
And so they strove against their hearts and lived
Long lives of hope and fear and love's sweet pain
Within a heart-beat. But the time was near!