THE PADDOCK
What clean, clear air!....Doesn’t it seem to shine
Right through you! doesn’t it make you light and bright—
Fit for a frolic, wild to rush and leap
Over things! Oh, I am all on tiptoe, to....
To....Well, I don’t know what; but something quick!
Something adventurous, spirited, energetic,
Live!....
Splendid!—Splendid! Blow again, strong breeze!
Warmth now....with such a breath of basking pine!
And hark! the old [1]cabbage-tree—“Rush, rustle, splash!”
You poor old ancient tree! that Andrew thinks
Dying—But how triumphant, then, you die!
Brandishing blades, and crown’d with stars that glitter
Bravely as ever to the beams and breeze.
—That flax is going to flower this year.—
See there!
A daisy! Little dear! I won’t tell Andrew,
But don’t spread, will you, Bright-face?—
There’s the sun,
Down in the creek; he’s bigger than the world,
And yet our creek can hold him—that’s a puzzle.
....The water shines and slips and shines along....
There sails a feather! past the musk, between
The astonish’d cape-weed and the whispering poplars,
- ↑ Cabbage-tree, an ugly name for a beautiful thing: the Palm-Lily, the Maori Ti. This is the most distinctive of all New Zealand trees. In growth it somewhat resembles a true Palm.
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