This is the Beach whereon the white foam flies
Beneath the mounting skies;
Where the strong ocean currents pour
From a far northern shore;
Where coral waters, purple, green, and blue,
And every peacock hue,
Glimmer, and gleam, and glint,
A fierer opal tint.
The long seas roll from rocky, ice-girt lands
To these palm-shaded sands.
The little wave that laps about your feet
Has fled from snow and sleet,
Where unbound waters rage, and rave, and roar,
And now lies on this sun-warmed, southern isle,
Where rich brown faces smile.
Lo! each great roller breaks upon the bar,
Where the slim surf boats are,
Upon this "horse," this wave, this rushing tide,
See the Hawaiians ride,
A laughing, shouting, singing, merry crew,
In their fleet black canoe,
And all are forward-leaning, straining in the wind,
While the curled wave pursues behind--
High overhead beneath the brilliant heaven
Fly clouds forever by a great wind driven.