Page:A New Zealand verse (1906).pdf/249
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Night Island.
213
CXLVII.
Night Island.
Rocking upon the spectral sea
A shallop swims awaiting me,
Boat of the Fay;
Frail is the crescent, hollowed thin;
Rapt in a dream I sit therein
And speed away.
A shallop swims awaiting me,
Boat of the Fay;
Frail is the crescent, hollowed thin;
Rapt in a dream I sit therein
And speed away.
Silent the midnight; light the fleece
Adrift across the moon of peace;
The air is suave;
In quivering, glancing, broken bars,
The trembling silver of the stars
Floats on the wave.
Adrift across the moon of peace;
The air is suave;
In quivering, glancing, broken bars,
The trembling silver of the stars
Floats on the wave.
No foam is cleft beneath the prow,
No tinkling ripple taps the bow,
No whitening wake
The magic keel of ivory shows,
That swerves not left or right but knows
The way to take.
No tinkling ripple taps the bow,
No whitening wake
The magic keel of ivory shows,
That swerves not left or right but knows
The way to take.
Fast, o’er the foamless, silent sea
The wistful boat skims eagerly
Till pale shores rise,
A coast where rings no pilot’s hail.
And there, in deeps no seamen sail,
Night Island lies.
The wistful boat skims eagerly
Till pale shores rise,
A coast where rings no pilot’s hail.
And there, in deeps no seamen sail,
Night Island lies.
At first, one cloudy dome, but soon
Flecked like the circle of the moon
With shadowy shapes,
Flecked like the circle of the moon
With shadowy shapes,