tua hae
O tehu eo Kei pana
O ahunia Tui haa
O taa tini Kei pana
Nohea Tou mata
Tua kina Papa ohe
Tepiu Punoa
Tui feaa Tuhina
Naani Eiva Eio Hoki
Teani nui nei O tapu ohi
Ani hetiti Opu tini
O kou aehitini O take oho
O taupo O te heva
Tui pahu Otiu hoku
O hupe Oahu tupua
O papuaei O honu feti
Pepene tona Honu tona
Haheinutu O taoho
Kotio nui Taihaupu
Motu haa Mu eiamau
Hope taupo Tuhi pahu
Taupo tini Anitia fitu
Ana tete Pa efitu
Kihiputona Tahio paha oho
Taua kahiepo Honu tona
Mahea tete Titihuti
Aino tete tika Tua vahiane
Kui motua Titihuti

Loud sang the names themselves, proclaiming the merits of their
bearers or their fathers in heraldic words, in titles like banners
on castle walls, flying the standard of ideals and attainments of
men and women long since dust.

Masters of Sea and Land, Commander of the Stars, Orderers of the
Waxing and Waning of the Moon, Ten Thousand Ocean Tides, Man of Fair
Countenance, Caller to Myriads, Climber to the Ninth Heaven, Man of
Understanding, Player of the Game of Life, Doer of Deeds of Daring,
Ten Thousand Cocoanut Leaves, The Enclosure of the Whale's Tooth,
Man of the Forbidden Place, The Whole Blue Sky, Player of the War
Drum, The Long Stayer; these were the names that called down the
centuries, bringing back to Titihuti and to us who sat at her feet
in the glow of the torches the fame and glory of her people through
ages past.

How compare such names with John Smith or Henry Wilson? Yet we
ourselves, did we remember it, have come from ancestors bearing
names as resonant. Nero was Ahenobarbus, the Red-Bearded, to his
contemporaries of Rome, at the time when Titihuti's forefathers were
brave and great beneath the cocoanut-palms of Atuona. Our lists of
early European kings carry names as full of meaning as theirs;
Charles the Hammer, Edward the Confessor, Charles the Bold, Richard
the Lion-Hearted, Hereward the Wake.

Titihuti, having gravely finished her chant, stood for a moment in
silence. Then, "_Aue!_" she said with a sigh. "No one will remember
when I am gone. Water, my son, nor Keke, my daugh