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That's the way Stoddard put it in his "Hawaii Noi": "Thy life is music Fate the notes prolong! Each isle a stanza, and the whole a song." And he was right. Flesh is golden there. The native women are sun-ripe Junos, the native men bronzed Apollos. They sing, and dance, and all are flower-bejewelled and flower-crowned.
Like a broad wind the spring advances over islands and belts, embracing the whole in arrogant strength. He sings in the children's open mouths as in a shell, and is lavish of his airy freshness. Women's teeth grow whiter with his kiss, and vie with their eyes in brightness; their cheeks glow beneath his touch, though they remain cool like sun-ripe fruit under the morning dew.
Passing through Cecil's room, he finds both heads on one pillow. Violet has waked Cecil with her good-night kiss, and the exigeant child has prisoned her with two soft arms and drawn her close to her own pink cheek and rosy, fragrant lips. They seem like a picture, gold and chestnut hair intermingled, complexion of pearl, and the other of creamy tints, soft as a sun-ripe peach.
Like a broad wind the spring advances over islands and belts, embracing the whole in arrogant strength. He sings in the children's open mouths as in a shell, and is lavish of his airy freshness. Women's teeth grow whiter with his kiss, and vie with their eyes in brightness; their cheeks glow beneath his touch, though they remain cool like sun-ripe fruit under the morning dew.
Wilmarth, but it knows nothing against him, and his romantic marriage was in his favor. So he is buried with all due respect in that depository of so many secrets, marred and gnarled and ruined lives. Marcia is brought home to her brother's and takes to her bed. The day following is Sunday, a glorious, sun-ripe September day.
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