BURNT BUSH
Gold glances of Sunlight,
That, peeping, withdrawing,
Then suddenly bursting
Through fringes of foliage,
Kiss’d me, of yore, to a radiant rapture—
Sad, I salute you!
....O Matai, O Maire,
Totara, Rimu!
Moss-hung, fern-footed,
Leaning towards me your burdens of [1]Kié-kié,—
Living and lofty, once more do I see you?
Near—O draw near!
Ah Tree-ferns! pavilion me.
Ground-ferns, and tender
Green mist of the Mosses,—
Touch me, O drink of me!
....Hark! Is it true?
The twitter of locusts,
More pleasant than prattle of pebble with rapid,
Again?....
O flute of the Tui!
More pure, smooth, cool,
Than coolest and clearest upbubbling of water..
O rustle of Rain!
....And the music, rising and falling,
The singing of leaves and boughs,
Sweet word of the Wind—Oh, again do I hear you, again?
Once again comes the glitter of light on the glossy [2]Karaka?
Ah, all the long day through,
Still came the light, but the glitter was gone.
65
