New Zealand Verse/At Governor's Bay
LIX.
At Governor’s Bay.
Across the hills we went that day,
Across the hills—oh, golden time!—
The sea, the sky made one sweet rhyme,
And nothing could our hearts affray.
Across the hills—oh, golden time!—
The sea, the sky made one sweet rhyme,
And nothing could our hearts affray.
We watched the mists that wreathed soft
The hills with mystic robes of white,
Then slowly swelled to forms of might—
The armed guards of vale and croft.
The hills with mystic robes of white,
Then slowly swelled to forms of might—
The armed guards of vale and croft.
And gentle wind blew up the pass,
With scent of bracken, veitch and whin,
And lavish largesse of their kin
From broom’s gold leafage shot with grass.
With scent of bracken, veitch and whin,
And lavish largesse of their kin
From broom’s gold leafage shot with grass.
The blue bay slept in holy peace,
Nor saw how clear it mirrored there
The cliffs and islands floating near,
Awaiting the sweet day’s decease.
Nor saw how clear it mirrored there
The cliffs and islands floating near,
Awaiting the sweet day’s decease.
The apple-trees had leapt to life,
And robed in fairy sheen they stood
In many a tiny garden rood;
The whole wide world with joy was rife.
And robed in fairy sheen they stood
In many a tiny garden rood;
The whole wide world with joy was rife.
That one white day I saw with you
Those beauteous things beyond the hills,
And heard low tinklings of the rills—
That day was good. But such are few!
Those beauteous things beyond the hills,
And heard low tinklings of the rills—
That day was good. But such are few!