ON A NEW ZEALAND HILL-TOP
Ulown by a clear wind Sun-dried and yellowed There the tussock tosses free, Waves of shimmering grassy sod Sweet-perfumed and mellowed,
High upon this hill-top Voices seem to sing Heaven's face a shadow-show, Where the white clouds come and go Joy in'everything.
Oh, this vivid summer breath And the spice of noon, Must the winter and the night Bear away this warmth and light, Must death some so soon? PETER BROOKE.
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https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/EP19290309.2.143.3
Bibliographic details
Evening Post, Volume CVII, Issue 56, 9 March 1929, Page 21
Word Count
76ON A NEW ZEALAND HILL-TOP Evening Post, Volume CVII, Issue 56, 9 March 1929, Page 21
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