'He a string of pearls gave to her,
Smooth and polished, pied and purple.
Round her snowy neck she placed them
With no thought of harm or cunning;
And with simple, maiden speeches
Filled the time as they sped onward.
To each pearl had Chi-co chanted,
Each had bathed in mystic water,
Each held fast the same weird power,
Till the time grew ripe for evil.
On the waves they could not harm her,
There the Sea-King ruled them ever;
But when on the shore she landed
They would work their evil mission.
On the shore of Ro-a-no-ak
Chi-co sent his boat with vigor.
Lithe and happy she sprang shoreward,
When,— from where her foot first lightly
Pressed the sand with human imprint,—
On— away— towards the thicket,
Sprang a White Doe, fleet and graceful.
His revenge thus wrought in safety,
Drifting seaward Chi-co chanted:
"Go, White Doe, hide in the forest,
Feed upon the sweet wild-grasses;
No winged arrow e'er shall harm you,
No Red Hunter e'er shall win you;
Roam forever, fleet and fearless,
Living free and yet in fetters."
O fair maiden! born and nurtured
Neath the shadow of disaster!
Isle of Fate was Ro-a-no-ak,
In the Land-of-Wind-and-Water.
Nevermore to fill with gladness
The sad heart of stricken mother;
Nevermore to hear the wooing
Of the brave and true O-kis-ko.
Gone thy charm of youthful beauty,
Gone thy sway o'er savage natures;
Doomed to flee before the hunter,
Doomed to roam the lonely island,
Doomed to bondage e'en in freedom.
Is the seal of doom eternal?
Hath the mussel-pearl all power?
Cannot love thy fetters loosen?'