CHAPTER I
OTAHEITE
The gentle island, and the genial soil,The friendly hearts, the feasts without a toil,The courteous manners but from nature caught,The wealth unhoarded, and the love unbougnt,
The bread-tree, which, without the ploughshare, yieldsThe unreap'd harvest of unfurrow'd fields,And bakes its unadulterated loavesWithout a furnace in unpurchased groves,And flings off famine from its fertile breast,A priceless market for the...
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