Beloved Isles of Viti

By Harold Chambers

O, Viti! string of gems most rare On the Pacific bosom set, Isles of enchantment passing fair, Thy spell one never can forget.

The queenly palms that grace thy strand, The green seas rolling leisurely, Beauty ineffable and grand, Oft in the dreams of night I see.

With peaks that pierce the cloud-flecked sky, Uprising from the turquoise seas, Thy storied Isles green-mantled lie Panned by the scented tropic breeze— Stories of poignancy and pain, Of human flotsam from afar.

Of gentle brown-folk, warriors slain, Of love and laughter, hate and war.

Serenely basking in the Main, In timeless somnolence, they lie; Anon, lashed by a hurricane Are battered ’neath a sullen sky.

Across the reefs the ebb-tides creep.

And turning tides flow in again With rhythmic hiss and murmur deep.

Like slumbering giants of the Main.

The brooding calm of tropic noon, The opalescent sunset skies.

The molten silver of the moon That gleaming on the palm fronds lies And, on her lone nocturnal beat.

A shimmering path flings o’er the sea, Whereon, perchance, the tripping feet Of tropic sea-sprites dance with glee.

Thy children of euphonious tongue, Light-hearted live and leisurely, Carefree, their native Isles among, Endowed by Nature lavishly.

Ah! ne’er a day but longings rise For thee, O Viti! In my dreams I live again ’neath thy blue skies Among thy Isles and hills and streams.

Dr. P. W. J. Searle and Dr. F. R. T.

Hollins have resigned from the Medical Department, Fiji. Dr. Searle will be leaving the Colony in September and Dr. Hollins in December.