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The New Zealand Railways Magazine, Volume 11, Issue 6 (September 1, 1936)

Rotorua Lake

Rotorua Lake.

A purpling twilight softly draws
Her restful misty veil
Across the Lake. Low in the sky
The first star, lone and pale
Awaits the coming of the host
By night revealed; I wait
Beside the Lake. I hear the sound
Of twilit silence.
'Tis the gate
To bygone mem'ries; to the past
Now dead and gone, it is the key:
Yet not dead—through the mist
Of even's veil once more I see
That bygone day….
There silent, lone, yet gratefully
In shadows wrapt, Mokoia sleeps
While from the wooded flanks
A phantom legend creeps.
Hark!
I hear a flute soft played!
Tutanekai… art there? And you
Friend Tiki, with the flute, who sweetly breaks
The hush of evening's depthless blue?
… Or is't the wind?…
I Hear the gentle lap of water…
The flute plays on to tell
A maiden on the mainland that
Her lover loves her well.
… Or is't the twilight breeze
Caressing all, and passing, lost,
Into the shades of night?

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