THE TORRENT AND THE LAKE.

Otago Witness, Issue 2152, 23 May 1895, Page 39

THE TORRENT AND THE LAKE.

Lines suggested by an evening scene and by a morning bcene on Lake Wanaka during one of the writer's voyages on the lake. Morning : The Torrent. The glassy ice and frozen snow That crown each mountain's head, Now feel the warmth of summer's glow* And now the unchained waters How, And journey to the lake below With swift and joyous tiead, Springing light from rock to rock, Foaming, shattered by each Bhock. When shining in the unseen sun Eich rugged peak is red, Which cleaves the brightening morning skies, Above the huge bulk standing there, Whose bosky base in shadow lies, As though each peak a giant were, Cloud-pl lined, gilt-helin«ted. Then each madly-dashing creek Is dimly seen— a silver streak Across the steel grey uplands bleak } And when the line of light Slides downward, as the climhing sun Flames on sharp spurs, now dark and dun, Now rising rosy bright, With deep, dark furrows in between, The twinkling cascade's silver sheen Sp'ings flashing on the sight.| So all day long and all days Ihrough From niowfiuld white and glacier blue Theleai ing waters aye pursue Their wild, tumultuous couise : Rushing round btcep rocky shoulders, Dafhing 'gainst huge rugged boulders, With noi-y futile force ; Springing o'er each precipice, Dashing down with roar and hiss, With ceaseless jargoning ; Boiling up with many a bubble, "Whirling round with many a double— With many a bubble, many a double, E'er again they spring Over rocky shelves and ledges, With dupping, dank, moss covered edgea Wheiv jutting points the current shiver, Whore weeping ferns and toib-tvis quiver In the spray-born brteze. Then again it softly moves, Pouricg fast down channelled groves Worn deep in rock that seems abiding By the soft, incessant sliding To the mild and murmurous chiding Of waters such as these — Singing softly »s they flow, Singing softly as they go, Singing pianissimo. Then again obatructions come, The waters change their dreamy hum To a noisy clatterTo a gurgling, to a splashing, To a hissing, to a dashing, While the foam drops scatter. Lit up by the sunbeams slanting, The waters keep for ever chanting— Singing as, for many an icon, They have Bung their joyous pajan. Anon down slopes less rough and steep The stream flows on with many a sweep} Lapping 'gainst its earthly banke, Forgetting all its brawling pranks ; Rippling o'er its pebbly reaches, Sighing on its sandy be*che3 *, On its course now lightly prancing, Round each curving corner dancing, Round each smoofch-woin pebble glancing; Over gravel lightly tripping, Round each tree-root def ily slipping— Its journey done, its troubles passed, It slide-} into the lake at last. Evening : Tiik Lake. The moon shines on the placid lake, Cradled in the mo'intains. No passing breezes cauee a sigh To flutter down from lone peaks high 1 No joyous birds are now awake To softly sing with trill and shake, To murmur of the fountains, That sounds from gullies dark and wild Soft as the breathings of a child That sleeps, by dreams untroubled yet— Angel- watched, iii basinette, Gazed on by loving eyes. So now the mild, maternal moon, High in the silent skies, Looks lovingly upon the lake. As if no gazing c er could slake The thirat to gaze ; as if a boon It were to calmly look Upon the listless waters sleeping. Silent in a sheltered nook. Pillowed by the silver beach With curving outline gdiitly sweeping, As if its arms would slyly reach Behind the water of ihe place And clasp it in a fond embrace ; Upon the steep and ehade-limned cliff With bushy curls upon its brow, That looks down on the lake as if It studied its own features now j On deep ravines in shadow hid, On snow-hatred, rocky pyramid That rises rugged, stark, and ateep, Round which the little stars " 80-peep 1" As children do before '" Good-night" And mother's guardian kiss, And stars do ere they siuk from sight Behind someprjeipice Looming black against the blue That sweeys beyond these mountains high, The pillara of the lakes own sky, Which mirrored in the lake I view— A horizontal firmament, Moon-b-itrodden, star-be prent. And as I gaze, as on a pcroll, It seems ass if my out-stretched hand Could touch' the sky from where I stand } And heaven seems nearer to my eoul, And geutle peace descends. The torreut dashes down the steen With many a plunge and many a loap, But in the lake it ends ; Its follic3 and its trials past It finds a peaceful home at last, It finds a place of rest. So when from etorniy course of life, Outwearied by the stress and strife I lay me down to rest, May such sweet calm my spirit fill—" Sole solace that I crave ; And may this peaceful lake be still Au emblem of the grave. Cromwell, May 1895. —A. Warburton.