BELL-BIRDS.
(A RHAPSODY.) The bell-birds in the magic woods, O, hearken to the witching strain, It Hows and fills in silver floods. And fills and flows again. A golden dawn, with blood-red wings, Flies low along the shades of night. O, hearken how the carol springs, And trembles with delight. The forest leaves are all afire, The bell-birds skim from bough to bough ; O, listen to the holy choir, So liquid and so low. Oh hush I oh hear ! A goblin chime, It shakes the dew-drop from the branch ; A solo sweet, a scattered rhyme, A golden avalanche. The fruits are picked, the lovely throng Have down, and sung their parting strain ; But such a witchery of song We shall not hear again 1 W.S.
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https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/periodicals/NZGRAP18940714.2.13
Bibliographic details
New Zealand Graphic, Volume XIII, Issue II, 14 July 1894, Page 30
Word Count
125BELL-BIRDS. New Zealand Graphic, Volume XIII, Issue II, 14 July 1894, Page 30
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Acknowledgements
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