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Musings in Maoriland

Sleeping Alone

page break

Sleeping Alone.

Sleeping alone in the wild, wild bush,
Where the wattles stoop,
And their ringlets droop,
When Spring glides in with her healthy flush,
Sleeping alone.

Sleeping alone in the quiet glade,
Where the timid sheep
From the red sun creep
To hang their heads in the leafy shade,
Sleeping alone.

Sleeping alone where the parrots fly,
To pipe their lays
On the sultry days—
When hot winds sweep o'er the mountains high,
Sleeping alone.

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Sleeping alone where the Morepork's call
At night is heard
With echoes weird,
When Luna peeps through the gum-trees tall,
Sleeping alone.

Sleeping alone 'neath the unfenced mound,
No kindred bones
Nor mem'ry stones,
In Nature's lonely burying-ground,
Sleeping alone.

Sleeping alone where but few have trod,
Till the last bell tolls
And the unjudged souls
Bring up their clay to the throne of God,
Sleeping alone.