Page:A New Zealand verse (1906).pdf/89
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The Passing of the Forest.
53
Gone is the forest world, its wealth of life,
Its jostling, crowding, thrusting, struggling race,
Creeper with creeper, bush with bush at strife,
Warring and wrestling for a breathing space;
Below, a realm with tangled rankness rife,
Aloft, tree columns, shafts of stateliest grace.
Gone is the forest nation. None might stay;
Giant and dwarf alike have passed away.
Its jostling, crowding, thrusting, struggling race,
Creeper with creeper, bush with bush at strife,
Warring and wrestling for a breathing space;
Below, a realm with tangled rankness rife,
Aloft, tree columns, shafts of stateliest grace.
Gone is the forest nation. None might stay;
Giant and dwarf alike have passed away.
Gone are the forest birds, arboreal things,
Eaters of honey, honey-sweet of song,
The tui, and the bell-bird—he who sings
That brief, rich music we would fain prolong.
Gone the wood-pigeon’s sudden whirr of wings;
The daring robin, all unused to wrong.
Wild, harmless, hamadryad creatures, they
Lived with their trees, and died, and passed away.
Eaters of honey, honey-sweet of song,
The tui, and the bell-bird—he who sings
That brief, rich music we would fain prolong.
Gone the wood-pigeon’s sudden whirr of wings;
The daring robin, all unused to wrong.
Wild, harmless, hamadryad creatures, they
Lived with their trees, and died, and passed away.
And with the birds the flowers, too, are gone
That bloomed aloft, ethereal, stars of light,
The clematis, the kowhai like ripe corn,
Russet, though all the hills in green were dight;
The rata, draining from its tree forlorn
Rich life-blood for its crimson blossoms bright,
Red glory of the gorges—well-a-day!
Fled is that splendour, dead and passed away.
That bloomed aloft, ethereal, stars of light,
The clematis, the kowhai like ripe corn,
Russet, though all the hills in green were dight;
The rata, draining from its tree forlorn
Rich life-blood for its crimson blossoms bright,
Red glory of the gorges—well-a-day!
Fled is that splendour, dead and passed away.
Lost is the scent of resinous, sharp pines;
Of wood fresh cut, clean-smelling, for the hearth;
Of smoke from burning logs, in wavering lines
Softening the air with blue; of cool, damp earth
And dead trunks fallen among coiling vines,
Brown, mouldering, moss-coated. Round the girth
Of the green land the winds brought hill and bay
Fragrance far-borne, now faded all away.
Of wood fresh cut, clean-smelling, for the hearth;
Of smoke from burning logs, in wavering lines
Softening the air with blue; of cool, damp earth
And dead trunks fallen among coiling vines,
Brown, mouldering, moss-coated. Round the girth
Of the green land the winds brought hill and bay
Fragrance far-borne, now faded all away.