Gleanings

Powell, Roland, Whitcombe & Tombs, Auckland, N.Z., 1933

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The original publication details are as follows:

Title: Gleanings

Author: Powell, Roland

Published: Whitcombe & Tombs, Auckland, N.Z., 1933

GLEANINGS

By "KEA”

To my friend H.M.

WHITCOMBE & TOMBS LTD.

Auckland, Christchurch, Dunedin, Wellington, N.Z.

Sydney, Melbourne, London.

1933

Tir NATIONAL LIBRARY OP NEW ZEALAND

Ave Atque Vale

—Katherine Mansfield.

Spirit of Beauty! Late set free from earth,

In what imagined sphere de<Js hold thy course

Clad in ethereal light?

What happy star gives thee a fuller birth,

And lifts with interpenetrative force

Thy soul above the night

Of this low-hung and far-off regioned world?

E'en tho' the pinions of thy song are furled,

And Music here is dead,

And Light and Laughter fled,

Yet from the realms of purest love return

And still frequent those lonely hearts that in the shadows yearn.

Too few, there are, alas! in this dark isle,

This lonely outpost of Eternity,

Who share thy Essence rare,

And that Serene Irradiating Smile

That moulds intensely more than man may see

With eyes of blinded care,

And dim emergence from the mystic clod,

That upwards yearns with outstretched arms to God:

And yet, scarce knowing why,

Can utterly defy

The Voice insistent ringing in his soul

That Light is Love, and Order Calm, the Power of High Control

I come, the least of all that round thee throng

And lay this wreath of memory, unseen

Upon thy silent heart,

And steal away as voiceless as my song,

And muse on all the past that might have been

Ere scarce my tuneless ar

Made feeble frettings on a stringless lyre.

And knelt in Awe before the sacred Fire

On Poesy's High Shrine,

When, melting once with thine

My soul, expectant floated in a trance.

And knew at once, the Inner Source of thy Pure Radiance

God. The Evolutionary Sublimity of final and conscious Entity.

3

Unknown by human names we gazed intent,

And in the blended Rapture of that hour

Above the dreary mist

Of earth-desire there pulsed a vast Content; rV.„ J •• II J 1:1 n

Our wondrous vision blossomed like a flower,

For spirits as they list

Rise on the wings of high ethereal joy,

And melt in music sense can never cloy

Beyond defilement pure,

— j . ——* f* u **, In Perfect Love secure,

Like wafted flames our souls together leapt

And on the plumes of burning song victorious onward swept.

Yea! Life Triumphant outspanned Time and Space

The sable wings of Chaos, brooding far,

All suddenly, intense

In pregnant ecstasy and vital race,

Exultantly gave birth to sun and star: —

An echoing Voice cried "Hence"—

And swiftly thro' the gates of nascent flame

Cleaved fast the onset of each mighty frame;

Unto their courts appointed

Each sprang with Love annointed,

And like a golden javelin took flight

And shook the ringed planets free athwart the dome of night.

The dark mysterious theme of every age; Tk» „-,,:,• T T„1,„™.,„U1„ T:J C T:_. I c.

I he vast Unknowable Tide of Time and Space

Now lay beneath our gaze:

The insight of the soul creates the sage

With Dawns and mighty Dreamings on his face,

And in his eyes amaze,

That from this Universal Uncreate,

Thro' all the fierce Catastrophes of Fate

The Soul of man took form,

Majestic, Conscious, Warm

With Pity, sacrificing Self, that Love

Might find a Home secure, and cease midst Powers Blind to rove.

7

Man is Divine: and only in his heart

Is found the Quick’ning Beam of Sympathy:

The Lightning of the Mind

That flashes thro' the soul, and cleaves apart

The adamantine Door of Fear, to free

From Priest and Bond, the Blind;

And, from the Pestilence that groans in Pain

Releases Man that man may rise again:

Whilst, from the tomb of doubt.

Bursts with a Mighty shout

The long-pent Genius dreaming in the Race,

Till Wedded Truth and Beauty kiss and Science Fair embrace,

And bright-eyed Knowledge bringing in her train

Applied Utility, Invention's child,

And all her company

Of eager thoughts that teem within the brain

With usage and with subtle craft grown mild,

That erst untamed and free

Roamed on the wings of Elemental Force,

Now chained, perform for man, a nobler course;

, L .„- ? „ „ . —„—, The willing Slaves of Order,

With Law their Royal Warder,

Now marshall on the Everlasting Way

The vagrant visions mirrored in the Dawn of our To-day

No more the empty mirage of our dreams

Shail mock us in this desert of desire:

Yonder amid the palms

The broad'ning river of the Future gleams,

And on its bosom rides a barque of fire

Warm in Adventure's arms:

A new Columbus steers into the West,

And seeks again the Islands of the Blest,

O'er Oceans fiercely strown t_j_ _ī .L. J 1 rr_i

He charts the dread Unknown,

And like a Poet in the gloom of night

He sees beyond the Tempest the far-off Lands of Light

Oh, veiled Perfection! in that hour of joy

Infinity was robbed of all its Fear,

And on my lifted eyes

A Splendour fell, no changing years destroy:

A Constant Purpose burning ever clear:

A Lamp that never dies,

t 4 LlklL UILJ, But sheds afar its fair effectual ray

Beyond the glow of my ephemeral day

Whilst, from the wide expanse

Of universal trance

Life rises like a vision from the tomb

And fills the fields of night with flowers of amaranthine bloom.

There is no music that can move the heart.

And bridge the silent mystery of being

wherein we scarce rejoice,

Who dumbly act within ourselves our part,

/ ~— r"***> And give no import of our inner seeing,

Till some beloved voice

Interprets our own dream. Ah! then we feel

The Truth of what we know and dare reveal:

'Tis from this hidden well

Floods rise we cannot quell, a„j *L~ LI.J - _r i I

And on the troubled waters of our thought

Gleam momently those fragile barks with faery whispers fraughr

Like stars encinctured by their mutual beam,

In linked joy of converse high and rare,

With lingering steps we came

Adown the pine-protected ridge: the dream

Of budding Spring was bursting fresh and fair:

The upland slopes were flame

Yet, on the sea below were dimly glassed

Faint aery phantoms, as the Future passed

In pageantry forlorn

Of hopeless longing born—

And sudden, vanished from the outer eye

And left within a Loneliness that haunts me till I die

9

Then, faintly far, the clanging city called:

Bur, on the marge of its unquiet wave

There lay a dreamy dell

With circling boughs and greenery enwalled

That still retained the Peace that Nature gave:

Where legend yet may dwell;

Where, still the ear unsensual can discern

Ihe beat of Turi s paddles as they turn; 2

Or meet in fancy fine

Our Maori muses nine; 3

Or, in the gloom, for Hinemoa’s sake 4

Hear plaintively the longing flute across the twilight lake.

And there, within a mossy niche upwelled

A crystal dimple bubbling with delight,

My native Helicon. 3

You knelt and drank, by its soft voice impelled:

Empyrean Splendour seized my mortal sight,

And on your Presence shone;

And round your form a faint and faery mist

Made music none but poet’s ear may list

Whilst in that Beauty veiled

My trembling senses failed,

And all that memory now holds of Thee

Is as a fading sunset flung upon a tropic sea.

Notes—2 Turi the chief and navigator of the Aotea.

3 There is a striking similarity between the Speculations of

the earliest Greeks and those of the ancient Maoris re-

garding their respective cosmogonies. Perhaps such a

conceit as this may not be found altogether extravagant.

4 This refers to the tender love idyll of Hinemoa and

Tutanekai.

5 My native Helicon. The Grant Road Spring.

7

'Twere ill that I should wake a wornout note

And vex the tranquil slumber thou hast found

With any clam’rous grief;

Or urge from Nature's pure and joyous throat

A threnody of solemn-moaning sound.

How vague, and yet how brief

Is Life—A trembling whisper thro' the night—

A shadow of a thought concealed from sight—

A longing, a desire,

A pulse of spheral fire, —

A wave that rolls against an amber shore

And breaks in sapphire splendour along a starry floor.

My saddest tears flow for the unsung dead

Who sleep on scattered farms and lonely runs,

Beneath some wind-swept hill;

Or in some back-block clearing, where they led

\*SL in jwjul ua\.iv fiwt>». ■'**»_» »- A patriot band of pioneers, whose sons

Still own the land they till

Oh! when I lie awake and feel the rain

Beat sobbingly across an empty plain.

While brooding thunders roll

Their melancholy toll,

I long to rise and shield them from the blast

Until the winter blizzards cease and storms be overpast.

The high Gods still are jealous of their gifts,

Lest mortals scale their everlasting throne,

And cease to humbly bow

When e'er the cloud that hides their Presence lifts

Upon the viewless wings of Rapture blown;

And, 'tis to me enow

To know thy spirit felt no earthly pride,

But came, in joy unstained, the lovely bride

Of meek Humility

Whilst mild Serenity

Held open Meditation's azure door

As thro’ the throbbing stars of song thou strodst Heaven’s Gold*

floor.

11

Oh, gentle pilgrim! 'twas thy happy lot

To travel leisurely in golden pain

And glean in lovely fields

The fairest flowers of ev'ry hallowed spot

Where master minstrels raised their matchless strain:

Whose deathless music yields

Immortal melodies and visions bright:

And now enrobed in song's exceeding might

„.. „...„„..„ ... 0„.. 5 i..ii.,.i. U iii g lll.gl, They steep their plumes in fire

Of Ultimate Desire,

And wrap this grey world in a rainbow haze

Of grand symphonic harmony and everlasting praise

Mine is a sorrow finer than my pen,

The subtle distillation of a dream

That blossomed under skies

That most I longed to see, —the pine-ridged glen

— D __ —, r —„ ..„ & . Of spectral Brockcn, eerie with the gleam

Of witch and were-wolf eyes:

That haunted forest where the erl-king bides

— & —, — And shrouds the screaming child the father hides,

in vmuw •. i ii., j>_n.iwiui.t, v_ - J * lb_i VIIL ItILULL lllSJt. Who, closer in his fear

Enfolds his darling dear.

And spurs in madding horror thro' the storm,

And scarce perceives his babe is dead because he feels him warm.

And on thro' dark enchanted woodlands fare.

And hear the phantom horn at midnight sound

-a. uit puniuuiii nviii til 3VJCIIIU Across the chilly wold.

Ah, Christ! too late to flee the fatal snare— . 1_ J__ T 1 ■ I. _ .T. .1 I 1

The lady Lorelei hath now thee bound,

And in her dungeon cold

Wilt pine away into a little dust

As loveless as her mercenary lust

Too late! Oh! never more

Wilt tread thy native shore,

yy lib iitdu Liiv imuvc 311U1C, Nor dream long Summers by the Lurean Sea,

Nor chase the golden flame of gorse across the upland lea.

9

The mist of death enshrouds thee from our sight,

And never more wilt see these islands fair

Rise like a long white cloud

Above thy home-returning prow. —The light

Of Dawn still overflows the golden chair

Of Rimutaka proud

Pcncarrow, pinnacled in lonely dreams,

Relumes her lamp from day-expiring beams

And welcomes thro' the night

Each heaving masthead light,

And constantly keeps vigil bright for the'

Whose bark has set an unknown course and sails a wider sea

Why dost thou stay? Why silent still remain?

The windy Tinakoris wait thy feet,

Their fragrant pines thy laugh.

What mighty pageant fills thy dreaming brain

Of Kings and Queens —and dost thou find them sweet?

And at high banquet quaff

With Bayard and the Chivalry of France

The beaker of Renown and fair Romance:

Or, where the warm road leads

Thro' balmy woods and meads

Dost wander South beside some forlorn knight

While old Provencal poets pipe sad songs of lost delight?

Ah! wherefore should I plant a cypress bower

And couch a melancholy soul in pain

Within its charnel gloom?

Didst not thy beauty blossom like a flower

And glory in the sun and gracious rain?

On thee the gentle doom

Of death fell as it falls on lovely things:

The weary folding of the poised wings

At purple eventide:

The sloping of the wide

Imperial dome of day towards the West

In gradual dim suffusion sinking gladly down to rest.

13

Now dips the sun's red rim,—again begins

The slow procession of the deathless stars

Led by the crescent moon.

Sad Eve in chilly valleys wakes, and spins

From pallid shades and sombre cloudy bars

The cerement pall of noon.

The sea insistently moans in my brain,

And gloom-crowned Kapiti pavilions rain.

A demon unconfined

Is wailing in the wind,

And round the haunted mast screams out in fear

As if some dark distempered Dread was dwelling ever near,

Ave atque Vale! We only greet

Each other long enough to bid farewell

Before the shadows fall;

And instant urge the young and fervent feet

To mount beyond the barrier where we fell;

And heed the higher call

Of onward, upward», till the human soul

Attains to triumph in the distant goal:

r —„_„..* & * And then beyond, afar,

Doth rise a further star

To lead the angel offspring of our dust

Along the Everlasting Way to Perfect Truth and Trust.

II

1933

On Milton - BLIND

I might have held, by more than marriage bond,

The right, nigh three long centuries ago

To call thee brother, living then to show

A loyalty which would have been more fond

Than that we gave a foolish king. The wand

Of ancient dignity is fallen low

When strutlings vainly strive to bend the bow

That makes the hearts of nobler men respond.

Would I had been thine eyes, and held thy pen

And trembled when thy godlike numbers flowed:

Then had I shielded thee from bitter men,

And from the cold neglect of them that owed

More filial love. Great Bard! on England dear.

out thy spirit, protestant, austere.

15

Sonnet

Ah; long have I in rare possession hid

From common sight an alabaster vase

Ensculptured in a hundred fairy ways,

Whereon with symbols sacred, writ amid

The sorrow and the splendour of their loves,

With glowing hearts, a high enraptured band,

Great glad immortal lovers carven stand

& — ———- ——** ——■•—• -*....« With wedded limbs, soft-linked like wings of doves.

■—-~ " x —> —*- *~—~~ " &* And, long therein, the mystic spikenard

Of all my tender worship have I stored,

And sealed the casket close with reverent guard

Shielding both night and day its precious hoard.

So, when I found thee, I might bow before thee

And, prodigal, spill all its fragrance o'er thee.

Sonnet

Ah; pour thy soul like balm upon my heart

\nd bring me Peace, soothe into quiet sleep

This wild unrest. Forbid me not to weep,

Nor staunch the tears that from my eyelids start.

Thus, as I listen to thy melting art

My brain doth clear, and from the pent-up deep

Of long-endured grief, thro’ mazes steep

The gulfs divide—the waters roll apart.

How sweetly music penetrates the night

Of broken vows and barren ecstasies;

And straight I catch the living sound and sight

Of wondrous wars, and magic minstrelsies,

Of dreaming casements careless with delight,

Old Merlin’s might, and chastest chivalries.

13

Chateau de

Muffle the moaning tempest's madding pain,

Shutter the mullion'd windows curtain deep,

Fitful and fierce the livid lightnings leap

Like murdrous thoughts within the demon brain

Of some old ghoulish Kaiser—blood insane

Forget the War—To-night love's veil of sleep

Shuts out the fields now only Death's to reap

The double thundrings—rasps of sudden rain.

My kisses wound thy wondrous throat—thy face

With glorious passion lit, glows thro' thy tears;

Divine abandon! In how little space

Hath love triumphant, outspann'd mortal years.

A hush like Death hangs in the dusk of dawn-

This kiss thy last—and this—for one unborn.

London, 1914.

Sonnet

To stand alone, and face the withering scorn r>r • . j • -i- ■■! i

Of jest sardonic, railing jibe and sneer;

To hear the muttered hate, yet, know not feai

Nor curse the helpless day that saw thee born.

To steadfast stand, and cheaply hold in pawn

Misunderstanding fools who never peer

Beyond their prison walls—with rapture clear

Gaze on the face of God, the All-Forlorn.

Ah! bring the comfort of your thoughts to Him

Who dwells in utter loneliness beyond

All seeming things, until in worship dim

Ye feel high impulse and accept his bond.

a v n.Li lII ,H' J unpuiac rtlltt *n_i-cpt IIIS UUIIU. Courage! ye call it? Life of High Release

'Tis ever more, and inmost Cosmic Peace

17

Sonnet

Gone! lost for ever, like a poem heard

Once in the vast seclusion of a dream,

Whose raptures rising to the surface, stream

Like poignant horrors, faceless, wan, and blurred.

The mystery of man lies in no word

That falls from prophet's lips, or leaps agleam

From poet's pen, no visionary beam

Has once his inmost voiceless prison stirred.

All that we know is all that we can feel;

All we can do is seek illusions fair;

And from the moment’s point seize something real

To save proud broken souls from grim despair.

To these the mart, to those the cloister calls—

Let's make-believe until the silence falls.

On a Fragment of Pre-Man Cranium Sonnet

Soncve t

If only out of sorrow song doth flow

I.i Ulliy uuk ui auiiun jungi uum nun, Then grief were ecstasy akin to God, A.J __■ .T_ _ __~L .L-- - I

And pain the path that every poet trod wn.. _r j__ ._ L. I J._l_l.. .1.

Who sang of dawns to be, and, darkly slow,

In dreams and visions felt the future glow

With strange triumphant light that shod

The panting epochs from the primal clod

With feet of gold, ennailed with iron woe.

Hail! ffitllton—epoch brow! What Chaos grand

Of dim and half-formed thoughts like starry spheres

Obscured, within thy compass of command.

Lay circling nebulous. What hopes and fears!

And now evolv'd, the brain holds in its round

iIUVV tVUIV l_l, UIL I'iiiui IIUIUJ 111 ILJ lUliiili A Universe, with gfcrious Godhead crown'd.

15

Sonnet

Let go my hands! Thou can'st not hold me now

- e," "V a iiuu Ldjisi nut noiu me now, No more I yield myself to thy control,

Red lips no longer tempt my fervent soul, KT I i .....

Nor melting glance, nor lotus-circl'd brow

All that a woman dares, a woman will, T„ 1 L- 1 If J i ,

To keep man shackl'd to her dove-drawn car

Yea! this I know, for, like a red-born star

Imperious in pain, fierce flames thy passion still.

But I have long’d for things more wild and free, -I■--1 1 r f <

For alpine stars where peaks from clouds emerge

hor that uncharter-'d, restless, outer sea, WTI T T I , . ...

Whose Unknown clamours in this heart's storm-surge

Let go my hands! lost is thy deep breast's wonder \vn j ii i , . .

When deep calls deep and thunder answers thunder.

London, 1914

Man Victorious

I am a Trumpet in the Hand of Life

Held fast against her lips, and with her breath

Sonorous. At the Dawn she stands, and throws

My inmost being, vehement with pain,

With pangs of birth and vital ecstasies

Into a mighty blast. All suddenly

Within my soul the Inarticulate

Hath found a voice. This Elemental Chaos

Dumb with unutterable grief and red despair

Shouts forth the paean of life, and laughs at Death;

And from its inmost cell triumphant springs

The soul of man undaunted, scorning Fate

And walking with the Gods in Paradisi

19

Lament

Here low she lies, and her tender eyes

Are closed in dreamless sleep,

I found her dead, in the rackweed red,

Flung from the frenzied deep.

No tears could pierce my sorrow fierce,

My eyes were dry and sere

i'i| i.yi.l, rn.it uiv tliiu JLLI. The floods that leapt, returned unwept

X uuuua uiau impL, itlUlllCU UUWCpL And froze my heart with fear.

And since that day, like a shadow grey

Grief crept into my hair,

All things I view, take a common hue.

That once to me were fair.

The golden noon, and the tremulous moon

That floods the silver sound

No longer glow, and I do not know

The time when sheaves are bound.

The moonlit nights, and the starry heights,

Hillshadows on the sea,

Are all in vain, for she again

Comes never more to me.

I wander afar, like a planet star,

And my eyes oft fill with tears,

nnu my eyes uu 1111 wiiu ledrs, And the love of life, with its stress and strife

Is a thing of other years.

But yet some day, to that Lurean bay

I shall return again,

And bv her side, near the restless tide

f\na Dy ner siae, near tne restless tide Forget for aye my pain.

Pahia,

Bay of Islands,

1912.

20

Pahia

Requiescat

The golden heart-strings of my love

Are tuned to sorrow now,

I strew thy bier with birchen leaves

And willow-weave my brow.

The past hath all my happiness,

My songs of youth and mirth

Enclosed with thee, now buried be

Within the heavy earth.

No more the sun shall rise for thee

Nor set the crescent moon,

No breezes lull for thee at dawn

Nor lisp for thee at noon.

The harvest moon comes thro' the mists

But never more for thee,

The golden year comes back again

But Winter 'tis to me.

Ah! tho' the world for me wheels on

And sight and sound are mine

Would I were lying with thee now

My silent lips to thine.

Oh! faithful ever to thy love

I wait the call of Death,

And fervent pray that thy dear name

Will fashion my last breath.

21

London, 1914

Lyric

A year ago in my garden

Where wonderful roses blow,

You kindled the flame of passion

In a virgin heart of snow,

But into our garden of roses

"im gaiuui i_)i IUSC3 The clarion call came clear—

You heard it sounding the warning

That foemen were gathering near.

I cannot think of you dead, dear,

Who died for our England's sake;

I only wish I could sleep, dear,

And in your embrace—awake.

I listen, and dream you are coming,

' / &♦ I linger awhile and wait:

’Tis only the sigh of the breezes,

And the sob of the sea at my gate

But into my garden of roses

An angel came at the dawn,

And folded so soft to my bosom

Is the image of you—newborn

Oh! Hope that is mine for ever,

The passing years are fleet,

And the Love that none can sever

Will be in the end—complete

22

To An Earthworm

Humble and lowly, spurned by all who pass

And live within this blessed arc of light,

Both beast and man,

Confined, thou creepest, coffined in the night,

And workest out beneath the couchant grass

Thy necessary plan.

Quiet, patient Tiller of the teeming earth,

No wider prospect seems to dawn for thee,

Both blind and dumb;

Thro' all thou toilest uncomplainingly, V,- I _._!_. . .t ■ : J- 1 I

Yet, round thee only, whispering seeds have birth,

And thither all roots come

Thou art the Lamp of Love in earth's dark womb, T-|__> .! l_ „_ . ■ ■ .i-

Tho' throbs no planet music in thine ear;

No sunset gleam

Brings soft cessation to thy toil; no cheer

Of homely word can lift thy helpless doom

To where dim dawn-stars dream.

Contemned, despised, the by-word of reproach,

Dishonoured man is branded with thy name

And made to feel

That even as the dust are Wealth and Fame,

When Crime and Lust and sordid Greed encroach

Upon the Commonweal.

But not on thee should fall this pliant curse,

I_/LIL UUI VJII llltL 311UU1U Idll Llll3 pildllL LUI3C, Whose toil, unsung, is ever for our good

, _ — O , -_ _._ & And common birth.

Thou delvest still, where countless myriads stood

And laughed and loved, until thy quiet hearse

Made rich the barren earth.

With spirit meek, tho' loving life no less,

In simple splendour let me live and die

As one whose heart

Found Rapture ever in our kindred tie;

And more than full of Wonder's happiness

Contented can depart

20

And leave behind no echo of sad moan

Because the banquet-wine had ceased to flow,

And in their course

The lamps of revelry were burning low,

And o’er the feast a charnel wind was blown

With ever-chilling force

With thankful eyes, and blessing to the end

This gift of life so gracious and benign,

Let twilight creep

Around the convex of this bowl of wine;

With drowsy smile meet darkness as a friend—

And let the living weep,

Because upon the myriad-tree of life

This Season puts forth branch and fruit of me

New ring of bark;

Shall I lament the moment-leaves that flee

Before the shrivelling blast and gusty strife

When comes the Winter dark?

Next year the glossy bud puts forth again,

And new birds mate and give the genial sun

Glad welcoming

Ah! linger not, nor sigh when song is done

Nor when thou meetest in the Autumn lane

The ghost of vanished Spring.

Scorn not the dust—Nor in thy weary heart

Make overmuch of what thou shalt retain

Of dance and mask:

High-purposed still, when vital powers wane, T. j i j _ l I /..11 ■

To onward hand the torch and full impart

To thine the nobler task.

Thus, humble dweller in the pregnant sod,

Teach me the full acceptance of my fate

As part of thine,

And more than glorious, since, within the Gate

Of Conscious Wonder I became a God

And throbbed with pangs Divine.

24

A Pagan’s Prayer

Now I am dead, in the rich red Earth

Lay me low and shed no tears,

For my Mother she was, and she gave me birth

Ere man was measured by years,

And now Time hath no pleasure nor mirth,

And I have no ghostly fears.

Where the wild vine clasps the scoria rock,

And hangs from the almond tree,

Where the pheasant-cock, with his merry flock

In the shade sport pleasantly,

In the bright red earth, uncoffined, lock

My clay where none may see.

And over me let the warm winds race

Laden with scented bloom,

For I fear no angry Deity’s face

In the Peace of my red-earth tomb,

Nor do I wish in his Heav’n a place

Whilst others are sharing the Doom.

The king in his marble urn may sleep,

The priest 'neath the altar rest,

But the bright red earth when delvecl deep

For I will dream, where the sickles reap,

Of the red sun in the West.

And sing with the lark when the morning shines,

And laugh in the Summer glade,

And flirls among the vines

And -jiwwith them in the shade

And all unseen, where the wild rose twines,

Hear lovers vows remade

In my heart the clinging vine will root;

And the jovial grape will swell

With a draught that will quicken the purple fruit

And gladeh tfagnpamr of h^H;

For I filled my life with Love's sweet loot

And drank from the choicest well.

ECawa Kawa, Bay of Islands, 1912.

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