Page:A New Zealand verse (1906).pdf/95
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A Winter Daybreak.
59
XXX.
A Winter Daybreak.
i.
From the dark gorge, where burns the morning star,
I hear the glacier river rattling on
And sweeping o’er his ice-ploughed shingle-bar,
While wood-owls shout in sombre unison,
And fluttering southern dancers glide and go;
And black swans’ airy trumpets wildly, sweetly blow.
I hear the glacier river rattling on
And sweeping o’er his ice-ploughed shingle-bar,
While wood-owls shout in sombre unison,
And fluttering southern dancers glide and go;
And black swans’ airy trumpets wildly, sweetly blow.
ii.
The cock crows in the windy winter morn,
Then must I rise and fling the curtain by.
All dark! But for a strip of fiery sky
Behind the ragged mountains, peaked and torn.
One planet glitters in the icy cold,
Poised like a hawk above the frozen peaks;
And bends the cypress, shuddering, to his fold,
While every timber, every casement creaks.
But still the skylarks sing aloud and bold;
The wooded hills arise; the white cascade
Shakes with wild laughter all the silent shadowy glade.
Then must I rise and fling the curtain by.
All dark! But for a strip of fiery sky
Behind the ragged mountains, peaked and torn.
One planet glitters in the icy cold,
Poised like a hawk above the frozen peaks;
And bends the cypress, shuddering, to his fold,
While every timber, every casement creaks.
But still the skylarks sing aloud and bold;
The wooded hills arise; the white cascade
Shakes with wild laughter all the silent shadowy glade.
iii.
Now from the shuttered East a silvery bar
Shines through the mist, and shows the mild day-star.
The storm-wrapped peaks start out and fade again,
And rosy vapours skirt the pastoral plain;
The garden paths with hoary rime are wet;
And sweetly breathes the winter violet;
The jonquil half unfolds her ivory cup,
With clouds of gold-eyed daisies waking up.
Shines through the mist, and shows the mild day-star.
The storm-wrapped peaks start out and fade again,
And rosy vapours skirt the pastoral plain;
The garden paths with hoary rime are wet;
And sweetly breathes the winter violet;
The jonquil half unfolds her ivory cup,
With clouds of gold-eyed daisies waking up.