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The New Zealand Railways Magazine, Volume 14, Issue 8 (November 1939)

The Dive

The Dive.

There is a swift, bright moment, like
a dream,
When, plunging down waterwards, one
knows
The last cool glimpse of high, familiar
trees,
The dear old woods of Sher, the gleam,
All swept away to nothing it would
seem,
As, eager hands outflung, he diving
goes
One second downwards where the river
flows,
And he has swept into the lonely
stream.
Then all is lost to him; there's only
this—
The sweeping solitude of kingdoms
rare,
The high, sweet falling of the water's
kiss.
Ah God! The cold, clean rising to the
air,
The long-drawn draughts of breath;
the bliss
Of regained worlds all shadowy and
fair.