THE LARK'S SONG.
* The morning is wild and dark, The nirrht-mist runs on the vale, Bright Lucifer dies to a spark, And tho wind whistles up for a gale. And stormy the day may be That breaks through its prison bars, But it brings no regret to me. For I sing at the door of the stars! Along tho dim ocean-verge I see the ships labouring on; They rise on the lifting surgo One moment, and they are gone. I see on the twilight plain The flash of tho flying cars; Men travail in joy or pain— But I sing at tho door of the stars! I see the green, sleeping world, Tho pastures all glazed with rime: The smoke from the chimney curled: I hear tho faint church bells chime. I see the grey mountain crest, The slopes, and the forest-spars, With the dying moon on their breastWhile I sing at t{ic door of the stars! —Anne Glenny Wilson.
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https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/NZH19300308.2.192.64.8
Bibliographic details
New Zealand Herald, Volume LXVII, Issue 20508, 8 March 1930, Page 8 (Supplement)
Word Count
160THE LARK'S SONG. New Zealand Herald, Volume LXVII, Issue 20508, 8 March 1930, Page 8 (Supplement)
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