In swifter ripples stream aside the seas,
Which her bold bow flings off with dashing ease.
Thus Argo ploughed the Euxine's virgin foam,
But those she wafted still looked back to home;
These spurn their country with their rebel bark,
And fly her as the raven fled the Ark ;
And yet they seek to nestle with the dove,
And tame their fiery spirits down to Love.

End of Canto 1st, Jn 14.

230

i. Thus Argo plunged into the Euxine's foam.—[MS. D. erased.]

CANTO THE SECOND.

I.

How pleasant were the songs of Toobonai,1
When Summer's Sun went down the coral bay!
Come, let us to the islet's softest shade,

And hear the warbling birds! the damsels said:

1. The first three sections are taken from an actual song of the Tonga Islanders, of which a prose translation is given in "Mariner's Account of the Tonga Islands." Toobonai is not however one of them; but was one of those where Christian and the mutineers took refuge. I have altered and added, but have retained as much as possible of the original.

["Whilst we were talking of Vavdoo tóoa Lico, the women said to us, 'Let us repair to the back of the island to contemplate the setting sun: there let us listen to the warbling of the birds, and the cooing of the wood-pigeon. We will gather flowers from the burying-place at Matáwto, and partake of refreshments prepared for us at Lico O'ně: we will then bathe in the sea, and rinse ourselves in the Váoo A'ca; we will anoint our skins in the sun with sweet-scented oil, and will plait in wreaths the flowers gathered at Matawto.' And now as we stand motionless on the eminence over Anoo Mánoo, the whistling of the wind among the branches of the lofty toa shall fill us with a pleasing melancholy; or our minds shall be seized with astonishment as we behold the roaring surf below, endeavouring but in vain to tear away the firm rocks. Oh! how much happier shall we be thus employed, than when engaged in the troublesome and insipid cares of life!

Now as night comes on, we must return to the Moda. But hark !—— hear you not the sound of the mats?-they are practising a bo-ośla ['a kind of dance performed by torch-light '], to be performed to-night on the malái, at Tanéa. Let us also go there. How will that scene of rejoicing call to our minds the many festivals held there, before Vavdoo was torn to pieces by war! Alas! how destructive is war! Behold! how it has rendered the land productive of weeds, and opened untimely graves for departed heroes! Our chiefs can now no longer enjoy the sweet pleasure of wandering alone by moonlight in search of their mistresses. But let us banish sorrow from our hearts: since we are at war, we must think and act like the natives of Fiji, who first taught

The wood-dove from the forest depth shall coo,
Like voices of the Gods from Bolotoo;1

We'll cull the flowers that grow above the dead,

For these most bloom where rests the warrior's head; And we will sit in Twilight's face, and see

The sweet Moon glancing through the Tooa 2 tree, 10 The lofty accents of whose sighing bough

Shall sadly please us as we lean below;

Or climb the steep, and view the surf in vain
Wrestle with rocky giants o'er the main,

Which spurn in columns back the baffled spray.
How beautiful are these! how happy they,
Who, from the toil and tumult of their lives,

Steal to look down where nought but Ocean strives !
Even He too loves at times the blue lagoon,

And smooths his ruffled mane beneath the Moon. 20

II.

Yes-from the sepulchre we'll gather flowers,
Then feast like spirits in their promised bowers,
Then plunge and revel in the rolling surf,
Then lay our limbs along the tender turf,
And, wet and shining from the sportive toil,

us this destructive art. Let us therefore enjoy the present time, for to-morrow perhaps, or the next day, we may die. We will dress ourselves with chi coola, and put bands of white táppa round our waists. We will plait thick wreaths of jiale for our heads, and prepare strings of hooni for our necks, that their whiteness may show off the colour of our skins. Mark how the uncultivated spectators are profuse of their applause! But now the dance is over: let us remain here to-night and feast and be cheerful, and to-morrow we will depart for the Mooa. How troublesome are the young men, begging for our wreaths of flowers! while they say in their flattery, See how charming these young girls look coming from Licool-how beautiful are their skins, diffusing around a fragrance like the flowering precipice of Mataloco:Let us also visit Licoo. We will depart to-morrow.'"-An Account of the Natives of the Tonga Islands, etc., 1817, i. 307, 308. See, too, for another version, ed. 1827, vol. ii. Appendix, p. xl.]

1. [Bolotoo is a visionary island to the north westward, the home of the Gods. The souls of chieftains, priests, and, possibly, the gentry, ascend to Bolotoo after death; but the souls of the lower classes "come to dust" with their bodies.-An Account, etc., 1817, ii. 104, 105.]

2. [The toa, or drooping casuarina (C. equisetifolia). "Formerly the toa was regarded as sacred, and planted in groves round the 'Morais' of Tahiti."-Polynesia, by G. F. Angas, 1866, p. 44.]

Anoint our bodies with the fragrant oil,

; 30

And plait our garlands gathered from the grave,
And wear the wreaths that sprung from out the brave.
But lo! night comes, the Mooa1 woos us back,
The sound of mats 2 are heard along our track
Anon the torchlight dance shall fling its sheen
In flashing mazes o'er the Marly's 3 green;
And we too will be there; we too recall
The memory bright with many a festival,
Ere Fiji blew the shell of war, when foes
For the first time were wafted in canoes.1
Alas! for them the flower of manhood bleeds;
Alas! for them our fields are rank with weeds :
Forgotten is the rapture, or unknown,
Of wandering with the Moon and Love alone.
But be it so :-they taught us how to wield
The club, and rain our arrows o'er the field:
Now let them reap the harvest of their art!
But feast to-night! to-morrow we depart.
Strike up the dance! the Cava bowl 4 fill high!

i. Ere Fiji's children blew the shell of war

ii.

And armed Canoes brought Fury from afar.—[MS. D. erased.] ii. Too long forgotten in the pleasure ground.—[MS. D. erased.]

1. [The capital town of an island.]

40

2. "The preparation of gnatoo, or tappa-cloth, from the inner bark of the paper mulberry tree, occupies much of the time of the Tongan women. The bark, after being soaked in water, is beaten out by means of wooden mallets, which are grooved longitudinally... Early in the morning," says Mariner, "when the air is calm and still, the beating of the gnatoo at all the plantations about has a very pleasing effect; some sounds being near at hand, and others almost lost by the distance, some a little more acute, others more grave, and all with remarkable regularity, produce a musical variety that is... heightened by the singing of the birds, and the cheerful influence of the scene."Polynesia, 1846, pp. 249, 250.]

3. [Marly, or Malái, is an open grass plat set apart for public ceremonies.]

4. [Cava, kava," or "ava," is an intoxicating drink, prepared from the roots and stems of a kind of pepper (Piper methysticum). Mariner (An Account, etc., 1817, ii. 183-206) gives a highly interesting and suggestive account of the process of brewing the kava, and of the solemn kava-drinking," which was attended with ceremonial rites. Briefly, a large wooden bowl, about three feet in diameter, and one foot in depth in the centre (see, for a typical specimen, King Thakombau's kava-bowl, in the British Museum), is placed in front of the king or chief, who sits in the midst, surrounded by his guests and courtiers. A

Drain every drop !-to-morrow we may die.
In summer garments be our limbs arrayed;
Around our waists the Tappa's white displayed;

Thick wreaths shall form our coronal,1 like Spring's,
And round our necks shall glance the Hooni strings; 50
So shall their brighter hues contrast the glow
Of the dusk bosoms that beat high below.

III.

But now the dance is o'er-yet stay awhile;
Ah, pause! nor yet put out the social smile.
To-morrow for the Mooa we depart,
But not to-night-to-night is for the heart.
Again bestow the wreaths we gently woo,
Ye young Enchantresses of gay Licoo! 2
How lovely are your forms! how every sense
Bows to your beauties, softened, but intense,"
Like to the flowers on Mataloco's steep,
Which fling their fragrance far athwart the deep !—

i. How beauteous are their skins, how softly all

60

The forms of Beauty wrap them like a pall.—[MS. D. erased.] portion of kava root is handed to each person present, who chews it to a pulp, and then deposits his quid in the kava bowl. Water being gradually added, the roots are well squeezed and twisted by various curvilinear turns" of the hands and arms through the "fow," i.e. shavings of fibrous bark. When the "kava is in the cup," quaighs made of the "unexpanded leaf of the banana' are handed round to the guests, and the symposium begins. Mariner (ibid., p. 205, note) records a striking feature of the preliminary rites, a consecration or symbolic "grace before" drinking. "When a god has no priest, as Tali-y-Toobo [the Supreme Deity of the Tongans], no person presides at the head of his cava circle, the place being left. vacant, but which it is supposed the god invisibly occupies. And they go through the usual form of words, as if the first cup was actually filled and presented to the god: thus, before any cup is filled, the man by the side of the bowl says... The cava is in the cup: the mataboole 'Give it to our god:' but this is mere form, for there is no cup filled for the god." (See, too, The Making of Religion, by A. Lang, 1900, p. 279.)]

answers

1. [The gnatoo, which is a piece of tappa cloth, is worn in different ways. "Twenty yards of fine cloth are required by a Tahitian woman to make one dress, which is worn from the waist downwards." Polynesia, 1866, p. 45.]

2. [Licoo is the name given to the back of or unfrequented part of any island.]