As monkish scribes from morning break Toiled till the close of light, Nor thought a day too long to make One line or letter bright: We also with an ardent mind, Time, wealth, and fame forgot, Our glory in our patience find And skim, and skim the pot: Till last, when round the house we hear The evensong of birds, One corner of blue heaven appear In our clear well of words. Leave, leave it then, muse of my heart! Sans finish and sans frame, Leave unadorned by needless art The picture as it came. XXVIII—TO AN ISLAND PRINCESS Since long ago, a child at home, I read and longed to rise and roam, Where’er I went, whate’er I willed, One promised land my fancy filled. Hence the long roads my home I made; Tossed much in ships; have often laid Below the uncurtained sky my head, Rain-deluged and wind-buffeted: And many a thousand hills I crossed And corners turned—Love’s labour lost, Till, Lady, to your isle of sun I came, not hoping; and, like one Snatched out of blindness, rubbed my eyes, And hailed my promised land with cries. Yes, Lady, here I was at last; Here found I all I had forecast: The long roll of the sapphire sea That keeps the land’s virginity; The stalwart giants of the wood Laden with toys and flowers and food; The precious forest pouring out To compass the whole town about; The town itself with streets of lawn, Loved of the moon, blessed by the dawn, Where the brown children all the day Keep up a ceaseless noise of play, Play in the sun, play in the rain, Nor ever quarrel or complain;— And late at night, in the woods of fruit, Hark! do you hear the passing flute? I threw one look to either hand, And knew I was in Fairyland. And yet one point of being so I lacked. For, Lady (as you know), Whoever by his might of hand, Won entrance into Fairyland, Found always with admiring eyes A Fairy princess kind and wise. It was not long I waited; soon Upon my threshold, in broad noon, Gracious and helpful, wise and good, The Fairy Princess Moë stood. [44] Tantira, Tahiti, Nov. 5, 1888. XXIX—TO KALAKAUA (With a present of a Pearl) The Silver Ship, my King—that was her name In the bright islands whence your fathers came [45]— The Silver Ship, at rest from winds and tides, Below your palace in your harbour rides: And the seafarers, sitting safe on shore, Like eager merchants count
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