Savage Longings

O, would I were a savage,

     A-strolling o’er the sand;

A nothing on my person,

     A spear within my hand.

I’m tired of all commotion,

     Of town and country life;

I’m tired of endless labor,

     Of hum-drum, daily strife.

I long to tread some island,

     Some island in the sea;

A savage for my sweetheart,

     Who couldn’t talk to me.

O, would I were a Fiji,                              (Feeji)

     To stroll upon the sand;

To dance, and eat of preachers

     With all the Fiji band.                           (Feejee)

May 27, 1895

Pub. in B courier,

July 10, 1895