THE LAST WALK.

New Zealand Graphic, Volume V, Issue 41, 11 October 1890, Page 3

THE LAST WALK.

With feeble, failing, faltering l feet she tiod Along the garden’s grassy terraces, Through all the rush of sweet spring harmonies, Hearing the low, clear summons from her God. Tin river sang along its wi I lowed ways, The thrushes tilled the air with wooing trills, And sweeping down the slope, the daffodils Flashed hack again the noonday’s living blaze. The ‘scent of violets, hidden in the gieen,’ Stole round her with the west wind’s kisses soft ; The daisies glimmered pearl like on the croft ; The blackthorn buds peeped, cleaving sheaths between. The sweet, reviving miracle of spring. Instinct with life, pervaded earth ami sky : \\ hile ‘ Look on it, and leave it, thou must die,’ Her doom amid it all was whispering.