"THE morning watch was come; the vessel lay 'Huzza for Otaheite!' was the cry. The friendly hearts, the feasts without a toil, . The soil where every cottage showed a home, And sweetly now, those untaught melodies Broke the luxurious silence of the skies, The sweet siesta of a summer day, The tropic afternoon of Toobonai, When every flower was bloom, and air was balm, -The Island: LORD BYRON. |