Leo notes that, pending a re-arrangement of the stage, there was a brief intermission, and later, that having become weary from strained attention, and drowsy from the soothing pleasures of the occasion, his thoughts flitted back over the silent years, and falling into a half-unconscious reverie, he seized the thread and wove from the thrilling scenes of the past the panorama of a pleasing dream. In his chant, we catch the echoes of a farewell to his native land, and, floating away into aimless realms, he follows the devious path of other days, where vaguely arise the fleeting phantoms of pleasures forever gone. [Illustration: _Hinemoa's Bath, of Legendary Fame_] We know not the mystery of a dream, but in Leo Bergin's brain the hoary mountains rise, the restless seas moan, and the scenes of ever-enchanting Zelania unroll like a magic scroll. In modest phrase he sings the memories of early wanderings, and that through his mental gleams we may reach a higher appreciation of the unfolding views, I quote his rippling rhymes:-- LEO BERGIN'S REVERIE. Sweet home, adieu! With vent'rous crew, I'm sailing o'er the ocean blue. As on we leap, the eye doth sweep The curving borders of the deep. The days glide by, I gaze and sigh, But nought appears, save sea and sky. * * * * * Behold! there rise, 'neath Southern skies, Green Isles that greet our glad surprise. Oh! lovely Isles, where Nature smiles, And beckons to the "afterwhiles." Here fancy drew, from old and new, To give the soul extended view. With air so mild, and scenery wild, The Fates persuaded, led and smiled. O! Craggy peak! O! Earthquakes freak, Had I but words of you to speak. Our course we take, through broom and brake, To view the fern-embroidered lake. Those lakes, so sweet, at mountain's feet, Where weary strangers, strangers meet. The waters blue, with swift canoe, We skim, for glimpses weird and new. We lift the eye to mountain high, To where the snow-peaks kiss the sky. O'er gorges deep, where shadows creep, dark clouds cluster, pause and weep. In dreamy mood, we pause and brood, 'Midst awe-inspiring solitude. We list--a roar, that cometh o'er, From danger scenes we would explore. For ah! the spell! the geyser's well, That hurls the sulphurous fumes from hell; That flings on high, with thund'rous sigh, Huge rocks, that smite the cloud-flecked sky. But list, ye bands from other lands, This monument of splendor stands, In South Seas hurled, with flag unfurled, "The scenic wonder of the world." * * * * * As here we scan old Nature's plan, We seek her last, best work--a man. Lo! he appears! nor hopes nor fears Have vexed his soul through all the years.