The primal lust had burst the slender bar,
Weak white man's morals. Now to slay and slay.
Darkling, he fixed Malua with his eyes,
Noting each shadow of his changing thoughts,
When the dear dreams centred on Taka, dreams
Dimming his sight. Holding his lips apart,
He slowly rose, Uhila following,
For in the dark the music of her face
Smote on the boy till he could bear no more
The feasting and the firelight; silently
He rose and stole away. The night was still,
And "Taka, Taka, Taka," rang his soul
Against the stars. He felt infinity
Above him brood, and knew the mighty gods,
Who once in every lifetime drop an hour
Of their remembrance fraught with godlike bliss
To luckless man, had turned on him their eyes.
Unconsciously his feet retraced the path
To the dark pool where joy had birth that day.
The scents that wake when the cool dusk begins
Lapped him luxuriously; the heavy sweet
Of passionate gardenia,--kiss made flower,--
White as his turbulent love, was as the crown
And climax of the jasmine stars that breathed
His love in placid day, and when he paused
Beside the pool, the forest held its breath.
"O sweet, O beautiful!" Malua cried,
His young eyes blazing to the tropic night.
"Never before, since all the gods were young,
Was woman loved as I love Taka.
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