Page:Songs, Legends, and Ballads.djvu/315

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301
THE KING OF THE VASSE.
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Of burning sandal rose where white men dwelt,
Around the huts; but they had shuddering felt
The weird, forbidden aspect of the spot,
And left the place untouched to mould and rot.
The woods grew blithe with labor: all around.
From point to point, was heard the hollow sound,
The solemn, far-off clicking on the ear
That marks the presence of the pioneer.
And children came like flowers to bless the toil
That reaped rich fruitage from the virgin soil;
And through the woods they wandered fresh and fair.
To feast on all the beauties blooming there.
But always did they shun the spot where grew.
From earth once tilled, the flowers of rarest hue.
There wheat grown wild in rank luxuriance spread,
And fruits grown native; but a sudden tread
Or bramble's fall would foul goanos wake.
Or start the chilling rustle of the snake;
And diamond eyes of these and thousand more,
Gleamed out from ruined roof and wall and floor.