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The Spike or Victoria University College Review, June 1927

Maraka Hill

Maraka Hill

Dust on the bracken—
How our steps slacken,
Lagging and dragging up Makara Hill!
Dim now and dimmer
Pale foxgloves glimmer,
Dusk from the valley steals star-eyed and still.

West winds that bluster
Scarce now can muster
Breath to set swaying the leaf on the tree;
Past all re-kindling
The sunset fires, dwindling,
Die on the ashen-gray hearth of the sea.

Stilled is our chatter,
Only the clatter
Of hob-nails on metal rings out on the night;
Just one more turn now—
See where there burn now
Lights of Karori—the end is in sight!