son blood, there lay a crimson wreath,
And thro' the forest stole a dusky shade
Fleeing he knew not where save that he 'scaped
Death, that was lying by the forest pool.

At dawn the weary boy, who thro' the night
Had cried his love and anguish to the dark,
Wandering half crazed thro' forest deeps unknown,
Feeling upon his throat the hand of hate,
Feeling upon his heart the still more potent
Fingers of love, came to the open shore
Waiting for day. The restless, eager foam,
Stretching white arms around the sleeping earth,
Woke his great love anew. The loneliness
Of open spaces set his hungry soul
Dreaming of Taka, Taka who should come
And fill the empty world for him. The sky
Paled at the thought. The dawn was stealing near,
Glimmering faintly on the edge of night.
He could delay no longer; like a thief
He must secure his jewel in the dark.
In the vast pause that presages the morn
He came to Taka's door. Ajar it stood,
And on the mats within he saw revealed
The pure young oval of her perfect face.
"Taka, my little one," Malua whispered,
And thro' her dreams "Malua" passed her lips,
Slipping insensibly to waking. So
She saw him at the door and came to him,
Her dewy dreams still warm within her eyes,
And gave her face to passionate caress.
Then with soft, broken words he told again
His love, and after when her heart was full
Of glad acceptance, as a flash of fire
Searing his image on her soul, he told
How blood had paid the price of love.

She heard,
And daylight ebbed before her eyes to faint
White mist, then refluent turned and smote
Her heart's eyes with the horror of the truth.
Uhila dead. Uhila with the smile
That woke for her alone. Her thoughts, like leaves
Blown by cold winds, were scattered, and the words
"Uhila dead" was but a symbol grim
Of darkness. All the past, her happy life
Flower in the sun, her home, and all the dear
Familiar duties, all her life to come
Woven with thoughts of kind Uhila, all
Struck to the ground by murder. In her blood
The pale drops cried to heaven against the wrong,
Wrong to her people and her love, till now
So beautiful.

Malua knew her pain,
And how upon its verdict hung his life.
Death's flame had touched the golden rose of love.
If it be dross or gold, the test should tell.
The black gulf night that lies 'twixt dawn and dawn,
Deepened by darker sin,--could frail love, tired
With passion, hope to bridge th