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 their treasures o’er. One gift they find, one strange and lovely thing, Now doubly precious since it pleased a king. The right, my liege, is ancient as the lyre For bards to give to kings what kings admire. ’Tis mine to offer for Apollo’s sake; And since the gift is fitting, yours to take. To golden hands the golden pearl I bring: The ocean jewel to the island king. _Honolulu_, _Feb._ 3, 1889. XXX—TO PRINCESS KAIULANI