MEE SHWAY-EE.[39] “In the tropic land of Burmah, Where the sun grows never old; And the regal-browed Palmyra Crowns her head with clouds of gold; On a strange, wild promontory, Close beside the rushing sea, Listening ever to the billows, Dwelt poor little Mee Shway-ee. “But along the sandy sea-shore. Or amid the foliage green, Stringing rows of crimson berries, Was the maiden never seen; Never twined she her black tresses With the golden mazalee; For a wild and woe-marked slave-child Was poor little Mee Shway-ee. “And when in the hush of twilight Rose a startling eldritch cry, Answered by the gray-winged osprey, Plunging seaward from the sky; Then the village wives and maidens, As they glanced from roof to sea, Whispered of a human osprey, And poor writhing Mee Shway-ee. “But a messenger of Jesus— Him who, centuries ago, Bared His bosom to the arrow Winged by human guilt and woe, And then said, ‘Go preach my Gospel! Lo! I’m evermore with thee’— One who served this blessed Jesus, Found poor trembling Mee Shway-ee. “Found her wan, and scarred, and bleeding, Mad with agony and sin; So love’s arms were opened widely, And the sufferer folded in; Tender fingers soothed and nursed her, And ’twas wonderful to see How the winning glance of pity Tamed the elf-child, Mee Shway-ee. “For, beneath those drooping eyelids Shone a human spirit now, And the light of thought came playing Softly over lip and brow; But her little footstep faltered,— Beamed her eye more lovingly,— And ’twas known that death stood claiming Gentle, trusting Mee Shway-ee. “But to her he came an angel, Throned in clouds of rosy light; Came to bear her to that Saviour Who had broke her weary night; And with smiles she sought his bosom; So, beside the rushing sea, ’Neath the weeping casuarina, Laid they little Mee Shway-ee.”