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98 No rest we know, For we hurrying go To our forest sanctuary, Through thickets dense Where the bush-buck lies, Beneath krantzes whence The leopard's eyes Look down for his morning quarry.

My home is far, And the morning star Rose twice on our hither track; Where the wide Bashee From Baziya's side Rolls toward the sea, My kinsmen bide, And they watch for my coming back.

For I wooed a maid, But her father said, Ere his daughter I might marry, Five heifers fair, And oxen five, I must homeward bear; So for love I strive, For I could no longer tarry.

Of all the maids That hoe in our glades, Noniese is the trimmest one; She's lithe as a snake,