POETRY
THE HAEROWER. The air seems full of powdered gold; The west is gold and rose ; And lightly o'er the furrowed land, A laughing faun, he goes. Where did he get that Grecian ease, This tiller of the ground, Whose supple form should grace a freize Of gods with myrtle crowned? Tlle mouse-gray mare moves drowsily, Nor to the lash gives heed ; The harrow's rusty teeth are clogged With loam, and leaf, and weed. Across the sandhills mournfully The sea ensnaring calls ; Superb he stands against the sky, As brown the twilight falls. — From "At Hageboro' and oth'ei Poems," Percy Pinkerton.
Permanent link to this item
https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/NEM19090607.2.2.1
Bibliographic details
Nelson Evening Mail, Volume XLIII, 7 June 1909, Page 1
Word Count
101POETRY Nelson Evening Mail, Volume XLIII, 7 June 1909, Page 1
Using This Item
Stuff Ltd is the copyright owner for the Nelson Evening Mail. You can reproduce in-copyright material from this newspaper for non-commercial use under a Creative Commons BY-NC-SA 3.0 New Zealand licence. This newspaper is not available for commercial use without the consent of Stuff Ltd. For advice on reproduction of out-of-copyright material from this newspaper, please refer to the Copyright guide.