AT DUSK.

Waikato Times, Volume XXVI, Issue 2137, 20 March 1886, Page 1 (Supplement)

AT DUSK.

q —Alfred T. Chandler.

Hear in the distance, like tremulous bells, Murmurs of melody, lingering low; Floating and gathering over the delta, Down where the whispering wattle trees grow. Is it the ripple of rambling rills, Kissing the feet of the dreamy hills, Singing a measure that faintly fills Forest and foreland where soft winds blow ? Hear the strange song in the deepening gloom, Lulling to sleep the weariful day ; Closing the eyes of bright beauties that bloom, Crooning to those that are pawing away.; Is it the sigh of the eveuing breeze, Wafted afar from beyond the seas; Telling its love to the lisping trees, Welcoming night with a gentle lay. Hear from above in the dusky air, Something that swells in an undertone; Grand as an echo from choristers rare, Breathing their souls in some beautiful zone. Is it the wonderful symphony Struck by the stars in their sparkling glee, Speeding through space and eternity On to the end in the mystic unknown? Standing out here on this southerly slope, What i* this music that comes from without — Nature's glad message of infinite hope, Soothing the terrors of withering doubt ? Comrade, I know not, but still there seems Something disclosed in these songful dreams, Voices of, comfort thro' starry gleams, Puttin our sorrows and fear to rout.