Crunch of spade resounds in the earth.
Wakea ’gain urges the query,
What god plies the spade in the ground?
Quoth Pele, ’tis I:
I mined to the fire neath Kauai,
On Kauai I dug deep a pit,
A fire-well flame-fed by Pele.
The heavens are lifted aslant,
One border moves up and one down;
There’s a stroke of o-ó ’neath the ground.