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A collection of poetry by Scottish writer Robert Louis Stevenson.

Page 158 of 454
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I

my king,” quoth he, “and a nauseous dose!”⁠— And hung the basket again in the shade, in a cloud of flies; —“And there is a sauce to your dinner, king of the crafty eyes!”

Soon as the oven was open, the fish smelt excellent good. In the shade, by the house of Rahéro, down they sat to their food, And cleared the leaves, in silence, or uttered a jest and laughed And raising the coconut bowls, buried their faces and quaffed. But chiefly in silence they ate; and soon as the meal was done, Rahéro feigned to remember and measured the hour by the sun And “Támatéa,” quoth he, “it is time to be jogging, my lad.”

So Támatéa arose, doing ever the thing he was bade, And carelessly shouldered the basket, and kindly saluted his host; And again the way of his going was round by the roaring coast. Long he went; and at length was aware of a pleasant green, And the stems and shadows of palms, and roofs of lodges between. There sate, in the door of his palace, the king on a kingly seat, And aitos stood armed around, and the yottowas sat at his feet. But fear was a worm in his heart: fear darted his eyes; And he probed men’s faces for treasons and pondered their speech for lies. To him came Támatéa, the basket slung in his hand, And paid him the due obeisance standing as vassals stand. In silence hearkened the king, and closed the eyes in his face, Harbouring odious thoughts and the baseless fears of the base; In silence accepted the gift and sent the giver away. So Támatéa departed, turning his back on the day.

And lo! as the king sat brooding, a rumour rose in the crowd; The yottowas nudged and whispered, the commons murmured aloud; Tittering fell upon all at sight of the impudent thing, At the sight of a gift unroyal flung in the face of a king. And the face of the king turned white and red with anger and shame In their midst; and the heart in his body was water and then was flame; Till of a sudden, turning, he gripped an aito hard, A youth that stood with his ómare, one of the daily guard, And spat in his ear a command, and pointed and uttered a name, And

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