'But what of Miroa?' Amo asked—' her friend?'—
Ah! there too he had tidings somewhat strange,
He answered, with a shrewd and prying glance
Eyeing the beauteous questioner askance: "
O'er Miroa there had come a curious chatige
Since Amo left, which none could comprehend
At first; for she—that merry maid—had grown
Sad, absent, sullen-seeming; given up all
Her favourite haunts and friends to muse alone;
Thrown all the sports and frolic games aside
Of which she was the leader, life, and pride;
The lively matches with the dangling ball
Struck at each other by the seated band;
The hunted pebble passed from hand to hand;
'Káhu' the 'hawk' of rushes she could weave
And coax with scarce-seen string to soar so high
That all the children said it must deceive
The living hawks they saw beside it fly;
The háka-dances where she shone supreme,
For gayer postures who could shape or dream?
With half her archness give each new grimace
Or shake the quivering hands with saucier grace?
The skipping-rope she never had to hold,
For who could ever trip her nimble feet?
Maui, the string she could dispart and fold
With dextrous fingers into forms complete
Of all things 'twas your fancy to behold—
Canoes, men, homes, wonders new and old—
Great Mother Night producing all her train
Of Gods—or cutting with swift snap in twain
page 243 Even Mam's self—inventor of the game,
For daring to invade that darksome dame:
All these poor Miroa had discarded now
And moped and slunk about with moody brow.

"Well, all believed it was for Amo's loss
The shadow lay upon the damsel's heart;
Till recently they saw her one fine day
Alert and brisk, preparing for a start,
It seemed, to visit some one far away:
For she was with a studied neatness drest,
Her curling locks smoothed to their brightest gloss—
And striving spite of grief to look her best;
A light food-kit was o'er her shoulders slung:—
When questioned, she declared she meant to make
Her way to Roto Aira's distant Lake,
Where welcome she could always find among
Near relatives that loved her; and you know
Where'er she pleased the Maid could always go—
For who would check her movements—interfere
With one that Arnohia held so dear?
But she by accident was overheard
That morning when she thought none near her stirred.
Plaintively crooning o'er an artless song
(While to and fro her form impatient swayed),
That told what secret on her spirit weighed;
The more, that from her bosom she was seen
To draw some finery—woven flowers or braid—
That there it seemed she must have cherished long,
And press them to her brow with passionate mien
And many tears—redoubled as she gazed
Awhile upon these tokens of desire
How vain! then flung them on her matin fire:
page 244 But when they quickly shri velled up and blazed,
Gone like her dream for ever! she arose
Passing her slender hands with gesture swift
Across her brows and sweeping back the drift
Of streaming tresses, as she waved her head
And tossed her arms out wearily once—like those
Who brush aside a troublous dream:—so she
Seemed in that act to shake herself quite free
From that entangling coil of memory.
Then started on her journey as I said.
But these proceedings and the song combined,
And most that wreath—the withered flowery string,
Red feathers from the parrot's under-wing,
And scarlet band—that shining foreign thing—
Told them 'twas for the Stranger that she pined."

Scarce had the word been uttered, ere with eyes
That flashed a sudden fire, fair Amo threw
Her arm round Ranolf as if danger near
Were threatening to despoil her of her prize,
Her heart's whole treasure—then withdrew it too
As swiftly—blushing at her foolish fear,
And asked, her bright confusion to disguise,
More than from any wish the lay in hear,
What song it was, made Miroa's love so clear?—
"'E tangi—e—te ihu '—what comes next
I'm sure I quite forget, although 1 heard;
At waiatas^* I always was a dunce.'
Twas all about a girl or some one—vexed
At scandal—full of wants and whims absurd.'
But Arao recognised the words at once,
page 245 And knew the song of course; and at request
Of Ranolf, with an accent that expressed
Compassion mixed with somewhat of disdain,
Recited in sweet tones the childish strain,
Whose meaning this loose version may explain: