A CHRISTMAS MORNING IN NEW ZEALAND.

Otago Witness, Issue 2181, 19 December 1895, Page 25

A CHRISTMAS MORNING IN NEW ZEALAND.

(Specially Written for- the Witness Christmas Number of 1895.) The first faint rays c-f Christmas morn are streaming Into my lonely hub beside the oreek As I awakt fivm sorrowful home-dreaming To watch tbe sun glide pa&t the mountain peak. The air drp'h3 brighten ; toon a crimson glow Illumes the sanctuary of the snow, ' And rests upon the heavenward pointing spires Of the high mountain range like smouldering fires. A season thus, and now a shaf b of light Shoots over and beyond the farthest height, Wbi'e bliuded stars relax thtir wavering gaze And pass away into the twilight baza. I look upon the landscape's morning splendour ; I tee the ancient forest and the stream ; The blue-eyed lako,' its upward glance so tender* And hero and there a cataract's bold gleam. Gray vapcurs float about the mountain's base, Aud with their i<luntom fingers seem to trace Mjstfrious writings en the rock-built walls, Where rnauy a glaoier torrent swoons and fjiHl With all its waters into depths unknown, Amid the shadows of tho misty zone. « Tbe marvels of the scene »ra dear to me, But dearer still gay Nature's symphony, S.vett sounding and soft echoing at dawn. Again I hear tfce wild call of the swan, the tui'a clear and tou'ful melody, The bellbird's rioh enchanting minstrelsy, Tbe hidden toutoa-wai's thin plaintive note, The kea's cry in rocky haunts remote ;—; — Alljbheee I hear, and other sounds than these *— Tho tuneful chant of yonder choir of trees, F«in% ruttlings of the bracken fern and grass, Vagae murmurs from the secretive morais, Tie liver's deep, eternal menotene, And sudden, mighty voicm, mountain-thrown. Here may the long-lost music of the spher^p Bs heard when bright December's sun appears ! Fair summer morn ! I give my hand to the*, Bub not my heart — nay, that can sever be, For my most sacred Ohristmas memories Are frluined in n loved land beyond the seas. Geraldine. " — Charles Rui& THE PRESENCE BEAUTIFUL. {Specially Written for the Witness Christmas Number of 1895.) In the night when the azure is studded with gold, , And foftly the silver streams down from the height, Whan the sheen of the heavens is fair to behold, And the slumbers of mortals are fitful and light ; In the voice of the waves as they break on the shore, The mellifluous hush of the swish of the sea, "In the vision that rises my fancy before, This bcautifnl presence is present to me. And it beams on my heart its ineffable ray, And sweetly it whispers of treasures untold In realms beyond the material away, Where pleasure shines ever and never is old. And joyful my spirit arises, and fain Through azure-flecked stretches of ether would goWould flee from ifa prison relinquish its ohaio, Aud shatter the thraldom that binds it below. The halo aronnd it, the luminous gleam, The glory that limns it on folds of the night Falls fair on my soul as the light of a dream Where moments all revel in scenes of delight. For I know that this beautiful vision is real — That somewhero afar in the land of tbe day It beams on forsver ; no fleeting ideal, That gladdens a moment to vanish for aye. When pleasures delight not and hope cannot cheer, Arid the bondage of earth holds my spirit iv thrall, Then I long fur this vision of light to appear That my day-dreaming fancies can no?er recall. But oft when alone when no mortal is nigh, And (he hush of the midnight is, deep on tbe ses, And the stars in their glory are walking the sky, Thia beautiful presence is present to me. P. E. Nolas. . South Dunedin, Christina* 1895. CHRISTMAS DAY. - ♦ ■ ■■ (Specially Written for the Witness Christmas Number of 1895.) To-day our Christ was bora, To comfort hearts forlorn By His great sacrifice. E'en e'er earth's morrow dawn We may hare rejoined those we mourn c - In Paradise ! May His great peacr, my brother, fill thy heart ! On tbis world's stage Humbly and bravely take and play thy part Till Death turns o'er Life's page. Geo. L. Tacon. — " Why are they called Pyramids, pa 1 " asked George, who was looking at a picture of those wonders of Egypt. " They are called Pyramids, my son," replied the father without hesitation, " because, you see, they appear amid the general desolation of the desert." - ' — Aunt Sarah's Turn Next.— A caller had mentioned that a neighbour had been obliged to shoot his dog because it had grown old and cross. Afte? he had gone little Edith, who had been very quiet eince the dog was spoken of, surprised her mother by asking : " Mamma, when do you think papa will shoot Aunt Sarah 2 " — Charlie Always Does.— One of the most unnecessary remarks ever madt, by human lips — from the disinterested outsider s point of view — is the young bride's tender injunction as she stands in tbe doorway with her arms twined lovingly round her husband's neck, and says : " Now do take caret of your-self until you get home again, won't you, Charlie dear."

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