New Zealand Verse/Bell-birds
LXXII.
Bell-birds.
The bell-birds in the magic woods,
Oh, hearken to the witching strain:
It flows and fills in silver floods,
And fills and flows again.
Oh, hearken to the witching strain:
It flows and fills in silver floods,
And fills and flows again.
A golden dawn, with blood-red wings,
Flies low along the shades of night.
Oh, hearken how the carol springs,
And trembles with delight.
Flies low along the shades of night.
Oh, hearken how the carol springs,
And trembles with delight.
The forest leaves are all afire,
The bell-birds skim from bough to bough;
Oh, listen to the holy choir,
So liquid and so low.
The bell-birds skim from bough to bough;
Oh, listen to the holy choir,
So liquid and so low.
Oh, hush! oh, hear! A goblin chime,
The dew-drop trembles on the branch;
A solo sweet, a scattered rhyme,
A golden avalanche.
The dew-drop trembles on the branch;
A solo sweet, a scattered rhyme,
A golden avalanche.
The fruits are picked, the ovely throng
Have flown, and sung their parting strain;
But such a witchery of song
We shall not hear again!
Have flown, and sung their parting strain;
But such a witchery of song
We shall not hear again!