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The New Zealand Railways Magazine, Volume 9, Issue 6 (September 1, 1934)



You smiled at me.

My fear took flight And fled like mist before the sun.
The dreaming, sapphire afternoon
Seemed touched with song and wild delight.
The droning of a bumble bee,
Became a hymn of praise to me.
You smiled at me.
I noticed then
A golden mist upon the hill.
Sweet scented gorse, but then it seemed
Treasure made for fairy men.
A soaring skylark seemed to be
Athrill with sudden ecstasy.
—D. G. M.

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