Page:A New Zealand verse (1906).pdf/132
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96
The Mountain Spirit.
LV.
The Mountain Spirit: a Glimpse of Mount Cook.
Saw ye a peak ’mid the ranges—
Majestic, where peaks are high—
Cradled in billows of sombre mist
Above where the keas fly?
Yon is a resting-place reserved
For kingly folk alone;
None but the bravest feet may touch
The Mountain Spirit’s throne.
Majestic, where peaks are high—
Cradled in billows of sombre mist
Above where the keas fly?
Yon is a resting-place reserved
For kingly folk alone;
None but the bravest feet may touch
The Mountain Spirit’s throne.
Watched ye at night o’er the ranges,
Through Earth’s remotest ways,
Like shades of far-off splendour, steal
A nameless purple haze?
’Tis a carpet of ether weaving
With restfulness replete
Laid down where gulley-ways would chafe
The Mountain Spirit’s feet.
Through Earth’s remotest ways,
Like shades of far-off splendour, steal
A nameless purple haze?
’Tis a carpet of ether weaving
With restfulness replete
Laid down where gulley-ways would chafe
The Mountain Spirit’s feet.
Heard ye the North Wind chasing
Repose from the digger’s hut,
When the rumbling sluice had ceased to flow
And the hydrant lips were shut
By the hand of icy winter?
Ye trembled at the noise,
Not recognizing in your dread
The Mountain Spirit’s voice.
Repose from the digger’s hut,
When the rumbling sluice had ceased to flow
And the hydrant lips were shut
By the hand of icy winter?
Ye trembled at the noise,
Not recognizing in your dread
The Mountain Spirit’s voice.
Felt ye a heart-deep loneness
Come o’er ye, as winter creeps,
When twilight set on your whare-roof
Away from the mountain peaks?
Come o’er ye, as winter creeps,
When twilight set on your whare-roof
Away from the mountain peaks?