Where the vine-maple fringed the deep forest with flame.
Strewn o'er the sombre walls of green
In saffron or in crimson sheen,
How lovely those gardens of autumn, where rolled
In smoke and in fire the red lava of old!
Soon I reached my sea-girt home
Sheltered from the breakers' foam.
Seek not for mine isle, for a thousand and more
Lie asleep in the calm near the mountainous shore.
Oft I roam in moon ray clear
With the puma and the deer;
From the boughs of Madrona that droop o'er a bay
I watch the fish dart from the beams of the day.
Mine are tranquil gulfs, nor give
Sign to lovers where I live;
But the sea-rock betrays where my netting is hung,
When the meshes of light o'er its mosses are flung!"
She ceased, and then in chorus strong
The blended voices floated long:--

"No sirens we, of shore or wave,
To sing of love and tempt the brave:
We fled their path, and freedom found
Where blue horizons stretched around,
And lilies in the grasses made
A double sunshine on each blade.
No wooers we, but, wooed by them,
We yield our maiden diadem,
And welcome now, no longer mute,
Tried hearts so true and resolute!"