NOVEMBER DUSK.

New Zealand Tablet, 3 July 1919, Page 28

NOVEMBER DUSK.

When to your heart go home my long desires, Home to your eyes at last my tireless gaze,— Such time as lamps are lit and early fires, : / To keep us from the chill autumnal greys, " The world without appears a vasty space Where thin and whispering winds cry overmuch: But here is nearness, and your quiet face And usual words to say, and hands to touch. A lean, black branch keeps tugging at the pane, ' '•'"- And past our door the harried hosts blow by: The day goes out in gloom; a droning rain Sets in upon-the roof. .. . And you and I By our own hearthfor all the great world grieves Can smile to hear the forest. dropping leaves. David Morton, in Current Opinion..