Kowhai's Gold.

When rush and roar of commerce fades
And rural ways are dumb,
When twilight fills the forest glades
And silent night has come.
'Tis then a trysting I would keep,
Where kowhais, gowned in gold,
Look down on moonlit waters deep,
That sing of gods of old.
That sing of gods of yester-years
And things that used to chance,
Till phantom figures unawares
Come gracefully to dance.
To dance to music of the spheres
That pave the Milky Way;
To dance until the dawn appears
And brings another day.
Another day of life and love,
And of the gods of old,
Of songbirds and of blue above,
And of the kowhai's gold.

—L. M.