The New Zealand Railways Magazine, Volume 15, Issue 3 (June 1, 1940)
Prelude
Prelude.
The night was young, yet bitter and old,
Like peach-skin wrinkling on the tongue,
The earth was cold, was more than cold,
But in the quiet sky was hung A little, inconsistent star,
Singing its quaint, unwritten tune,
An astral prelude, faint and far,
A herald for the full-toned moon.