I see a fire of blazing rocks;
I see an aged dame, who snores
On lava plate, now hot, now cold;
Now ’tis canoe in shape, well propped,
A chock ’neath bow, midships, astern;
Needs bail the waist where drains the bilge,
Else salt will crust like staring eye—
Gray roving eye of lawless Niheu.
Wonder and awe possess me!
On famed Moloka’i of Hina,