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Oh, sweeping in from whaling Through many a weary day, How sweet it was to hug the land
In Nukuheva Bay ; How sweet to crunch the coral strand Beneath deck-weary feet, And eyes to see Gleam bright on me, Young eyes so wild and sweet; Oh ! the girls of Nukuheva,
Though fond and dear you be, The girls of Nukuheva,
They'll still be dreams to me.
The breeze off land is blowing ; Farewell brown maids ashore ; Our ship is homeward going ;
The South I'll see no more ; Yet, in thought, I'm looking South still To the shining tropic calms, And gleaming eyes Give soft replies Beneath those far-off palms. Oh ! the girls of Nukuheva,
So fair and fond and free, I shall see their girlish glances Till I no more can see.