THE MEDLAR TREE.
It was the time of medlar bloom, And floss o£ gold was on the loom; And she stood in the scented gloom,
Beneath the starry medlar tree. The bloom was cold and rich and iare, As snow when fevers burn and wear ; It touched the chestnut of her hair, My Dryad of the medlar tree ! She only smiled, whate'er I told, I coined her silence into gold ; And filled with heart's delight the cold Sweet promise of the medlar tree. It is the time of medlar fruit, So hard and brown. Alone and mute, With wrack ot autumn underfoot, I muse upon the medlar tree. O fruit that is not fruit ! To hold With dying hands the withering gold! You wished no more, my Dryad cold, Beneath the starry medlar tree! —JESSIE MACKAY. Dunedin, October, 1900.
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https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/OW19001010.2.186
Bibliographic details
Otago Witness, Issue 2430, 10 October 1900, Page 57
Word Count
139THE MEDLAR TREE. Otago Witness, Issue 2430, 10 October 1900, Page 57
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