The Poetical Works of Andrew Lang Edited by Mrs. Lang |
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 | The Poetical Works of Andrew Lang |  |
145
Tusitala
R. L. S.
We spoke of a rest in a fairy knowe of the north, but he,
Far from the firths of the east, and the racing tides of the west,
Sleeps in the sight and the sound of the infinite southern sea,
Weary and well content in his grave on the Vaëa crest.
Far from the firths of the east, and the racing tides of the west,
Sleeps in the sight and the sound of the infinite southern sea,
Weary and well content in his grave on the Vaëa crest.
Tusitala, the lover of children, the teller of tales,
Giver of counsel and dreams, a wonder, a world's delight,
Looks o'er the labours of men in the plain and the hill; and the sails
Pass and repass on the sea that he loved, in the day and the night.
Giver of counsel and dreams, a wonder, a world's delight,
Looks o'er the labours of men in the plain and the hill; and the sails
Pass and repass on the sea that he loved, in the day and the night.
Winds of the west and the east in the rainy season blow
Heavy with perfume, and all his fragrant woods are wet,
Winds of the east and west as they wander to and fro,
Bear him the love of the land he loved, and the long regret.
Heavy with perfume, and all his fragrant woods are wet,
Winds of the east and west as they wander to and fro,
Bear him the love of the land he loved, and the long regret.
146
Once we were kindest, he said, when leagues of the limitless sea
Flowed between us, but now that no wash of the wandering tides
Sunders us each from each, yet nearer we seem to be,
Whom only the unbridged stream of the river of death divides.
Flowed between us, but now that no wash of the wandering tides
Sunders us each from each, yet nearer we seem to be,
Whom only the unbridged stream of the river of death divides.
| The Poetical Works of Andrew Lang | |