Page:A Treasury of South African Poetry.djvu/224

O glad tranquillity, whose healing thrill
No other hour in weary hearts can wake!
Soft steals the golden sunlight down the slope,
As it would catch the dark pool unaware.
Bush after bush its glowing kiss receives,
And grey old thorn-trees grasp it eagerly
In their rough arms, as though its warm embrace
Might bring back verdure to each withered bough.
And now the leader of the shining herd
Sets a shy foot upon the crumbling bank,
And straight the leaden water is bespread
With a swift dawn and flush of wavering light
That weaves a smile across its sullen front,
Like Hope surprising some despairing soul.
Spread, sunshine! o'er the gladdened waters spread,
Until each lurking shadow is displaced;
And take as thanks the incense offering
Of slowly drifting vapour-wreaths that smoke
From its sun-smitten surface.⁠Come at last
Where I that sing of thee stand, and through my frame
Strike a quick ecstasy of sensuous bliss.
Strike through the flesh and reach my inmost soul,
And slay its shadows with thy glorious light!
Pure from the pool, anointed by thy beams,
And soul-fed with sweet visions of the morn.
The better shall I live and work this day,
Feeling through hours of toil remembered thrills
Of sunlight kisses, soft and warm as love's.

Herbert Tucker.