Let not history say; 'To her old gods, she turned again.'" This rocky islet passed, the sea went down; once more we neared Hamora's western shore.

In the deep darkness, here and there, its margin was lit up by foam-white, breaking billows rolled over from Vivenza's strand, and down from northward Dominora; marking places where light was breaking in, upon the interior's jungle-gloom.
In heavy sighs, the night-winds from shore came over us.
"Ah, vain to seek sweet Yillah here," cried Yoomy.--"Poor land! curst of man, not Oro! how thou faintest for thy children, torn from thy soil, to till a stranger's.

Vivenza! did these winds not spend their plaints, ere reaching thee, thy every vale would echo them.

Oh, tribe of Hamo! thy cup of woe so brims, that soon it must overflow upon the land which holds ye thralls.

No misery born of crime, but spreads and poisons wide.