Page:A New Zealand verse (1906).pdf/205
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My Song.
169
Hid in her cloudy woof
A song that doth unfold
Itself in plaited gold.
A song that doth unfold
Itself in plaited gold.
Sing what I ne’er can say—
The wave may love the shore,
The flowers the dews that pour,
The tired winds love to stay
On cliffs where moss has lain,
Spent with the toiling main. . . .
The wave may love the shore,
The flowers the dews that pour,
The tired winds love to stay
On cliffs where moss has lain,
Spent with the toiling main. . . .
Dearer to me one heart
Where I would love to dwell,
Woven with magic spell
Into its inner part,
Sunk in its secrecy
Like a star in the sea.
Where I would love to dwell,
Woven with magic spell
Into its inner part,
Sunk in its secrecy
Like a star in the sea.
CVIII.
My Song.
I bade my love Good-night,
So loth to part
With her, the deep delight
Of this true heart,
My queen of pearls!
My lily of girls!
And when her light was low,
And all was still,
Saving that rapturous flow—
The lone bird’s trill,
I said:
So loth to part
With her, the deep delight
Of this true heart,
My queen of pearls!
My lily of girls!
And when her light was low,
And all was still,
Saving that rapturous flow—
The lone bird’s trill,
I said: