Page:A New Zealand verse (1906).pdf/219
This page has been proofread, but needs to be validated.
Liebesweh.
183
Who bless the Heaven that sent Thee to
Their coasts, a Revelation new
Of Goodness—that is God—of Beauty,
And Love, the fountain-head of Duty,
His other titles? Who doth press
Thine hand and drink the tenderness
Of thine eye-beams, and raptured hear
Those lips breathe musically clear,
Witchingly soft? Who strokes the fair
Brown ripples of Thy streaming hair,
And feels he dareth overmuch—
For there is magic in its touch?
Their coasts, a Revelation new
Of Goodness—that is God—of Beauty,
And Love, the fountain-head of Duty,
His other titles? Who doth press
Thine hand and drink the tenderness
Of thine eye-beams, and raptured hear
Those lips breathe musically clear,
Witchingly soft? Who strokes the fair
Brown ripples of Thy streaming hair,
And feels he dareth overmuch—
For there is magic in its touch?
O Love! Where’er the waves have tost
The pearl of price that I have lost;
Heaven grant some merchant, skilled to tell
The worth hid in the precious shell
May find Thee, sell his all, and be
Content to live and die for Thee!
The pearl of price that I have lost;
Heaven grant some merchant, skilled to tell
The worth hid in the precious shell
May find Thee, sell his all, and be
Content to live and die for Thee!
David Will. M. Burn
CXX.
Liebesweh.
Ah, my heart, the storm and sadness!
Wind that moans, uncomforted,
Requiem for Love that’s dead,
Love that’s dead!
Leafless trees that sough and sigh,
Gloom of earth, and grey of sky,
Ah, my heart, what storm and sadness!
Wind that moans, uncomforted,
Requiem for Love that’s dead,
Love that’s dead!
Leafless trees that sough and sigh,
Gloom of earth, and grey of sky,
Ah, my heart, what storm and sadness!