The New Zealand Railways Magazine, Volume 11, Issue 6 (September 1, 1936)
This Kind Of Fool
This is the kind of fool I am,
When scarlet Rata first appears
And Golden Kowhais are in bloom,
Feel in my throat the catch of tears.
Then if I hear the huntsman's cry
Of Taliy Ho’ a wretched chill
Creeps down my spine, poor wretched hares
Destroy at once the sporting thrill.
My gay friends laugh, cry “Silly Fool”
Enthusing o'er a Toi Toi plume.
Why praise the stately Cabbage trees?
Walk on wet sands o'er sprayed with spume?
Place Manuka in vases tall?
Go crazy at the Tui's note?
The Teal that glide upon the stream
Like small brown dreams that careless float?
“Oh, what romantic nonsense now!”
Folk say if I chance to revere
The clear look of the frosty sky
Whose crescent moon brings Heaven near.
They pull the covers snugly up
Have curtains drawn and what they miss!
The flush of dawn o'er mountain tops
That fills the devotee with bliss.
No doubt I am half mad to cry
Like kindergarten child at school
When I see something wonderful,
Unless perchance I am God's Fool.