VIII

Well, so they grieved for Miroa: yet no less
Perhaps, and shall we blame her if 'twere so?
page 249 This very feeling for poor Miroa's woe,
Though Amo's love for her was true indeed,
In her unconscious heart could not but breed
A secret feeling she would not confess
Of greater joy in her own happiness.
And cheering up, she said—" You may depend
On this—from what Te Manu says, our friend
Has overcome and shaken off her pain;
That song would tell it—but still more the power
To burn the keepsake—what was it? the flower
Or ribbon you bestowed in luckless hour.
And she has lovers, O in plenty—she!
And there was one on whom she always smiled,
I thought; a lad who lives or I mistake,
A fine good lad, beside that very Lake
And near the friends she must have gone to see;
She will be happy soon—dear merry Child!
Though how she could get o'er such love "—the rest
Was hidden with her face on Ranolf's breast.