The New Zealand Railways Magazine, Volume 13, Issue 7 (October 1, 1938)
The New Zealand Nightingale
The New Zealand Nightingale.
The thrush each morning lifts his head
In joyous ecstasy,
And from his throat there spills a note,
A silken Rhapsody.
With peerless purity of sound
His song falls—passionless—
And floats, like bubbles, on a stream
Of turgid heaviness.
Sing on brown bird of merry heart
Sweet minstrel of the dawn.
With wondrous music gild the hour
That wakes the sleeping morn.
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