"Morning I rise and spread with careMy tapa on the grass;Evening I gather it again,A damp and sodden mass."
Then Maui rose and climbed at nightThe mountain. Dim and deepWithin the crater's bowl he sawThe sprawling sun asleep.
He looped his ropes, the mighty man,He whirled his sisal cordsThey whistled like a hurricane,And cut the air like swords.
Up sprang the spider. Maui hurledHis lasso after him.The spider fled. Great Maui stoodFirm on the mountain-rim.
The spider dipped and swerved and pulled,But struggle as he might,Around one-half his whirl of legsThe sisal ropes cut tight,
He broke them off, the mighty man,He dropped them in the sea.Where there had once been sixty legsThere now were thirty-three.
7
