Page:A New Zealand verse (1906).pdf/77
This page has been proofread, but needs to be validated.
The Pink and White Terraces.
41
XVIII.
The Pink and White Terraces.
From the low sky-line of the hilly range
Before them, sweeping down its dark-green face
Into the lake that slumbered at its base,
A mighty Cataract—so it seemed—
Over a hundred steps of marble streamed
And gushed, or fell in dripping overflow—
Flat steps, in flights half-circled—row o’er row,
Irregularly mingling side by side;
They and the torrent-curtain wide,
All rosy-hued, it seemed, with sunset’s glow.—
—But what is this!—no roar, no sound
Disturbs that torrent’s hush profound!
The wanderers near and nearer come—
Still is the mighty Cataract dumb!
A thousand fairy lights may shimmer
With tender sheen, with glossy glimmer,
O’er curve advanced and salient edge
Of many a luminous water-ledge;
A thousand slanting shadows pale
May fling their thin transparent veil
O’er deep recess and shadowy dent
In many a watery stair’s descent:
Yet, mellow-bright, or mildly dim,
Both lights and shades—both dent and rim—
Each wavy streak, each warm snow-tress—
Stand rigid, mute and motionless!
No faintest murmur—not a sound—
Relieves that Cataract’s hush profound;
No tiniest bubble, not a flake
Of floating foam is seen to break
The smoothness where it meets the Lake:
Before them, sweeping down its dark-green face
Into the lake that slumbered at its base,
A mighty Cataract—so it seemed—
Over a hundred steps of marble streamed
And gushed, or fell in dripping overflow—
Flat steps, in flights half-circled—row o’er row,
Irregularly mingling side by side;
They and the torrent-curtain wide,
All rosy-hued, it seemed, with sunset’s glow.—
—But what is this!—no roar, no sound
Disturbs that torrent’s hush profound!
The wanderers near and nearer come—
Still is the mighty Cataract dumb!
A thousand fairy lights may shimmer
With tender sheen, with glossy glimmer,
O’er curve advanced and salient edge
Of many a luminous water-ledge;
A thousand slanting shadows pale
May fling their thin transparent veil
O’er deep recess and shadowy dent
In many a watery stair’s descent:
Yet, mellow-bright, or mildly dim,
Both lights and shades—both dent and rim—
Each wavy streak, each warm snow-tress—
Stand rigid, mute and motionless!
No faintest murmur—not a sound—
Relieves that Cataract’s hush profound;
No tiniest bubble, not a flake
Of floating foam is seen to break
The smoothness where it meets the Lake: