Idyls of the South Sea

Where the long white waterfall
Lone and lovely slips,
There is no hibiscus flow'r
Redder than her lips.

Like a night without a moon,
Her dark tresses are.
Hokoolélé, Shooting Star,
Hokoolélé.

On this coral beach no palm
Stands more straight and fair,
Sweeter she than jasmin wreath
On her bosom bare.

Like the love notes of a harp,
Comes her song afar.
Hokoolélé, Shooting Star,
Hokoolélé.

Hokoolélé! Hokoolélé! 

The great wind shakes the breadfruit leaf,
The great waves cry on the coral reef,
The great drums sigh with a spirit breath,
For Something here has looked on death.

Turn ye back from the bush tonight,--
Turn ye back from the bush tonight,
Turn ye back!

The ghost tree falls across the trail,
A white crane flies with eerie wail,
A shriek goes up from the bamboo wood,
Where spirits seek for living food.

Turn ye back from the bush tonight,--
Turn ye back from the bush tonight,
Turn ye back!
Burn the rushfires bright, bright!
Turn ye back! 

The rainbow waters whisper
Beneath the swift canoe,
The bamboo flute is yearning for the moon;
But sweeter than the waters,
Than flute of sweet bamboo,
The boat songs float across the wide lagoon.
"Aloha, Aloha! My love to you!"

The shining oars are beating
The namesong of my chief,
And softly, softly beats my heart in tune;
While o'er the rainbow waters,
Above the crying reef,
I send my call across the wide lagoon.
"Aloha, Aloha! My love to you!" 

Withered is the green palm,
Broken is the bamboo,
Fallen is the strong one;
On the surf at sunset
His canoe rides empty,
His canoe rides empty!

On his grave I lay him
Tamarind and mango;
O'er his grave at midnight,
call I through the darkness.
He hears not my calling,

He hears not my call, my call!