THE HARP OF PITCAIRN. 353 
1. 
Pitcairn, I love thee, though, lone 'midst the ocean, 
Thou standest exposed to the tempest and storm, 
Though thy shore, ever white with the surf's rude com- 
motion, 
Rugged lava and wide-yawning chasms deform ; 
Yet oft, 'mongst those chasms, with joy have I rambled, 
In the "Pools" down "the Rocks," and down "Isaac," 
have gamboll'd, 
Or have jom'd my companions, by moonlight assembled, 
To sing forth thy praises, Fen ua Maitai ! 
2. 
Though discord and strife mark'd the dawn of existence, 
Nor yet were the days of our children more bright, 
And, but for the efforts of female assistance, 
The black man had surely o'erpowered the white. 
But why harrow up recollections of sorrow ? 
From the past for the future a lesson we'll take ; 
And draw a close veil o'er those dread scenes of horror, 
When blood stain'd thy valleys, Fen T)a Maitai ! 
3. 
To happier moments now memory turning, 
When Youth, Hope, and Love gave to Fancy full scope, 
I have climb'd the rude cliffs at the first break of morning, 
To see the sun rise from "the ridge of the Rope :" 
Or down " T'other side," with his last ray ascending, 
Over mountain and valley, in one glory blending, 
My rapturous gaze o'er the prospect extending, 
I have fancied thee " Eden," Fenua Maitai ! 
4. 
By torch-light the haunts of the white bird exi 
Perch'd high on the " big tree's " aerial bridge, 
How quick beat each heart, as the death-wail came soaring, 
From the ghost that still lingers on "Talaloo's ridge !"* 
Talaloo, an Otaheitan, who landed with the mutineers 
on the island, was barbarously murdered by his wife, and 
one of his countrymen, Menalee. Menalee, who is 'mentioned 
in the next stanza, was in his turn put to death by two of 
the mutineers. 
z 2 
