Page:The Works of Lord Byron (ed. Coleridge, Prothero) - Volume 5.djvu/672

632 VIII.

And Neuha took her Torquil by the hand,

And waved along the vault her kindled brand,

And led him into each recess, and showed

The secret places of their new abode.

Nor these alone, for all had been prepared

Before, to soothe the lover's lot she shared:

The mat for rest; for dress the fresh gnatoo,

And sandal oil to fence against the dew;

For food the cocoa-nut, the yam, the bread

Born of the fruit; for board the plantain spread

With its broad leaf, or turtle-shell which bore

A banquet in the flesh it covered o'er;

The gourd with water recent from the rill,

The ripe banana from the mellow hill;

A pine-torch pile to keep undying light,

And she herself, as beautiful as night,

To fling her shadowy spirit o'er the scene,

And make their subterranean world serene.

She had foreseen, since first the stranger's sail

Drew to their isle, that force or flight might fail,

And formed a refuge of the rocky den

For Torquil's safety from his countrymen.

Each dawn had wafted there her light canoe,

Laden with all the golden fruits that grew;

Each eve had seen her gliding through the hour

With all could cheer or deck their sparry bower;

And now she spread her little store with smiles,

The happiest daughter of the loving isles.

IX.

She, as he gazed with grateful wonder, pressed

Her sheltered love to her impassioned breast;

And suited to her soft caresses, told

An olden tale of Love,—for Love is old,

Old as eternity, but not outworn