Robert Louis Stevenson: Collected Poems Edited, with an introduction and notes, by Janet Adam Smith |
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 | Robert Louis Stevenson: Collected Poems |  |
Hark! away in the woods—for the ears of love are sharp—
Stealthily, quietly touched, the note of the one-stringed harp.
In the lighted house of her father, why should Taheia start?
Taheia heavy of hair, Taheia tender of heart,
Taheia the well-descended, a bountiful dealer in love,
Nimble of foot like the deer, and kind of eye like the dove?
Sly and shy as a cat, with never a change of face,
Taheia slips to the door, like one that would breathe a space;
Saunters and pauses, and looks at the stars, and lists to the seas;
Then sudden and swift as a cat, she plunges under the trees.
Swift as a cat she runs, with her garment gathered high,
Leaping, nimble of foot, running, certain of eye;
And ever to guide her way over the smooth and the sharp,
Ever nearer and nearer the note of the one-stringed harp;
Till at length, in a glade of the wood, with a naked mountain above,
The sound of the harp thrown down, and she in the arms of her love.
‘Rua,’—‘Taheia,’ they cry—‘my heart, my soul, and my eyes,’
And clasp and sunder and kiss, with lovely laughter and sighs,
‘Rua!’—‘Taheia, my love,’—‘Rua, star of my night,
Clasp me, hold me, and love me, single spring of delight.’
Stealthily, quietly touched, the note of the one-stringed harp.
In the lighted house of her father, why should Taheia start?
Taheia heavy of hair, Taheia tender of heart,
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Nimble of foot like the deer, and kind of eye like the dove?
Sly and shy as a cat, with never a change of face,
Taheia slips to the door, like one that would breathe a space;
Saunters and pauses, and looks at the stars, and lists to the seas;
Then sudden and swift as a cat, she plunges under the trees.
Swift as a cat she runs, with her garment gathered high,
Leaping, nimble of foot, running, certain of eye;
And ever to guide her way over the smooth and the sharp,
Ever nearer and nearer the note of the one-stringed harp;
Till at length, in a glade of the wood, with a naked mountain above,
The sound of the harp thrown down, and she in the arms of her love.
‘Rua,’—‘Taheia,’ they cry—‘my heart, my soul, and my eyes,’
And clasp and sunder and kiss, with lovely laughter and sighs,
‘Rua!’—‘Taheia, my love,’—‘Rua, star of my night,
Clasp me, hold me, and love me, single spring of delight.’
| Robert Louis Stevenson: Collected Poems | |