5.

Then, Father, why chide her,
Your darling, your pride, or
Lament at her going
Whatever betide her!
page 173 For though your eyes glisten.
O how can she listen—

To such a fond lover the rover has flown!

Unavailing the wailing,
And idle to chide her,
When breezes fresh blowing,
When waters quick flowing,
All fair things upgrowing
And waving beside her,

Will but guide and confide her to one heart alone!"

Thus, not without a sense forlorn and dreary
How doubtful her own flight and fate
Beside that maiden's, speeding to her mate
With answered love and confidence elate,
Poor Amohia swims till she is weary.