The New Zealand Railways Magazine, Volume 12, Issue 11 (February 1, 1938)
New Zealand Bush Song
I'll sing you a song of the Bush on a morn
When it's drenched by the glistening dew,
As tuis and bellbirds herald the dawn
And a waterfall's singing to you.
The Bush is a rapture on mornings like this,
With starry clematis agleam.
While lacy ferns sway in the breeze as they list
To the musical voice of the stream.
I'll sing you a song of the Bush on a day
When the summer's about to grow old.
And you're tempted perhaps in its glory to stay
While you search for the kowhai's gold.
When the rata is spreading its brilliant hue,
Like a scarlet blush up on the hill,
There's a shimmering haze weaves a spell over you
While the Bush slumbers drowsy and still.
I'll croon you a song of the bush on a night
When darkness falls softly around.
Lying silver and black 'neath the moon's soft light
In a silence unbroken by sound.
So the life of the Bush now is cradled to rest,
And still'd is the song of the stream,
Dreaming its dreams on the earth's warm breast,
As only the Bush can dream.
Oh God! When you first made this loveliness,
You did not forget one thing.
From the tiniest flower in its daintiness,
To the grace of a bird on the wing.
You gave it the blue of a morning sky,
The glow of a sunset's blush,
Tall trees for shade, tiny streams rippling by,
Then you gave it, for ever, to us.