A SUMMER IDYLL.

New Zealand Graphic, Volume VIII, Issue 36, 5 September 1891, Page 342

A SUMMER IDYLL.

Beneath a crooked rata tree Asleep I found my love, The crimson blooms fell down like rain From the great boughs above. They fell upon her peaceful limbs, And on her hands and breast; They fluttered lightly to her lips, Yet never stirred her rest. Her throat was white unto her ear, That like a curled shell, Gleamed in the golden waves of hair, Just where the sunlight fell. Would thou and I were met, dear love, As we shall never meet, By the green shore of the sounding stream, The grass beneath our feet. Would that we two might sit us down Where dewy violets blow, And dream again the golden dreams Were broken long ago. Her cheek was faintly touched with red, So delicately fair, It seemed reflected from the flowers, Were falling through the air. Her dewy lips, half oped and sweet, Glowed red as any rose ; Her lashes rested on her cheek In shadowless repose. Her little breasts beneath her robe Stirred like two sleeping doves, And all the sweetness of her youth Was mine, was mine and Love’s.

W. Satchell.