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Forth from her land to mine she goes, The island maid, the island rose, Light of heart and bright of face: The daughter of a double race. Her islands here in southern sun Shall mourn their Ka’iulani gone, And I, in her dear banyan shade, Look vainly for my little maid. But our Scots islands far away Shall glitter with unwanted day, And cast for once their tempest by To smile in Ka‘iulani's eye.
Image detail for -Posted by Doug Phillips on April 28, 2006 | Permalink