My Dream of the Islands

By Harold Chambers

(EXPLANATORY. —For many years, the dream written of in this poem, has per sisted. Again and again I have sailed through these dream-islands, but only twice, in my dream, have I landed on any of them, and it was not until June, 1947, that, in the dream, I learnt their name. This fact made me commit the dream to the form of a poem.) Oft in the dreams of night have I Embarked on ships of varied burthen; Now, with white sails athwart the sky, Anon, steam-driven, o'er the ocean.

No clear awareness in my dream Of any port of embarkation, Nor, as I voyaged, did there seem To be a sense of destination.

Just sailing, sailing, on and on, With strong, fair winds the white sails filling.

Or, in some steamer, surging on, Her buoyant bows the billows cleaving.

And ever in my dream there grew, Like smudges on the distant ocean, A chain of islands which I knew And hailed each time with deep emotion.

And yet I knew them not, nor where They hide in latitude uncharted.

Nor was there of these islands fair A name to me in dreams imparted.

Twice only did my vessel stay In all my voyaging nocturnal At anchor in a lovely bay, Of one of those dream-isles supernal.

Olive-skinned islanders I saw.

Graceful of mien and softly-spoken, Gathered to welcome me ashore With smiles and fruits in friendly token.

I felt as though these gentle folk Greeted me as kinsman to them— Their ways I knew, their tongue I spoke— Sometime, somewhere, I’d surely known them. 1 rambled once through tropic green, And chanced upon a church, with steeple, A priest’s life-labour it had been, To worship God and shrive his people.

Standing entranced, I gazed upon His garden of exotic flowers That nestled ’mid that Eden lone— His presbytery among the bowers.

Bearded and stooped with weight of years, He welcomed me into his dwelling, And there, with tales of joy and tears, He held me spellbound with the telling.

And, as the years have passed, there came My dream of islands, oft recurring, Unnamed, uncharted, yet the same, Setting my deep emotions stirring.

Into my dream there came at last The name of these, my isles supernal, Given as though a favour vast— “Na-isa,” isle of dreams nocturnal.

I know not what “Na-isa” means— Maybe from childhood’s mem’ry stealing; Or else a name some factual scenes Of future life will be revealing.

But where or when, or how or why— If strange preview or void of meaning— Persistent through the years have I Oft seen “Na-isa” in my dreaming. (NOTE: In Fijian, with some straining of the meaning, “Na-isa” could mean, “The longing” or “The yearning.” On the other hand, the Fijian word “Naisa” means “The opposite.”—H.C.t In spite of Fiji’s hurricane troubles, it was announced on February 27, that on the nine days that Fiji’s new Development Loans had been open, £400,000 worth of bonds and debentures had been sold.

Through the offices of Major- General Sir Charles Rosenthal, former Administrator of Norfolk Is., Norfolk Is. pines soon will be planted in British war cemeteries in Europe. The young trees, grown from seed supnlied by the former Administrator, are now being pre pared in an English nursery.