Poetry.
The Shield. Oh I did you hear a voice of death T And did you not mark the paly form Which rode on the silver mist of the heath, And sang a ghostly dirge in the storm ? Was it a wailing bird of the gloom, Which shrieks on the house of woe all night ? Or a'thiveiing fiend that flew to a tomb, 1 o bowl and to feed till the glance of light ? Twaa not the death bird's cry from the wood, Nor shivering fiend that bong in the blast ; 7vis the thrfo oI Helderic—-mm of blood— It screams for the guilt of days that are past 1 Sse how the red, red lightning strays, And scares the gliding ghost of the heath! Now on the leafless yew it plays. Where bangs the shield of the eon of dealn I That shield is blushing with murderous staios : Long has it hung from the cold yew's spray; It is blown by storms and washed by rains, Bat neither cen take the blood away. Oft by that yew, on the blasted field, Demon* dance to the red moon's light; While the damp boughs creak, and tbe swinging ehUld Sings to the raving spirit of night I
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Permanent link to this item
https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/WAIST18870506.2.13.3
Bibliographic details
Wairarapa Standard, Volume XX, Issue XX, 6 May 1887, Page 1 (Supplement)
Word Count
207Poetry. Wairarapa Standard, Volume XX, Issue XX, 6 May 1887, Page 1 (Supplement)
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