ELF LAND.

New Zealand Graphic, Volume IX, Issue 6, 6 February 1892, Page 139

ELF LAND.

There is a distant land so fair, With soft-robed hills and valleys, And roses red and clematis Wrap all its climbing alleys. ■Where low airs move amid the brake, And slide among the mosses, And whisper to the whispering oak. And breathe in ferny flosses ’Twas called the land of elfin folk In fairy stories olden ; And you enter in by a lowly gate, All ivory-white and golden. There summer holds eternal reign Nor cold nor loss come ever, Nor low-breathed hate, nor slow-dropped tear, Its sweet peace to dissever. But its gates are shut to the greedy world, And their hasty feet pass by them, For none but the true and pure in heart Have ever chance to spy them. All amaranth its paths so sweet, All asphodel its covers ; And the glow-worm lights its gloaming fire For tiny fairy lovers. Long melody slides adown the glens And o'er the sleeping shallows, And trembles in the gleaming bars Of every brooklet’s narrows. The elfin horns blow wild and sweet, Like hid bells far away, And elfin laughter rippling hangs About the foxglove spray. And day falls into eve and wraps In crimson dreamy fold The happy land of elfin home. Its shimmering gates of gold. But still amid the stress of life We hear the distant strain Of happy peace; the lulling voice, The elfin song's refrain. Dunedin. E. Nevill.