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The Spike or Victoria University College Review 1931

[untitled poem]

Here, while the sunset still flames on the far-distant mountains,
Here, where the rust-and-green of the bracken is softly aglow,
And, from the tree-top the deep vesper notes of the tui come floating.
Borne on the breath of the wind to the valley below;
Here, by this stream that still whispers the gossip of ages,
Held by the calm musing strength of the mountains, I stand,
Hearing the myriad sounds of the bush, the deep voice of the silence.
Watching the mists of the gloaming enshrouding the land.
Here, while the dew falls, and night soothes the gaunt hills to slumber,
Death holds no mystery, life has more joy than of yore;
Yet with the peace of the night comes a lingering touch of the sorrow
That I must pass, and shall roam in the valleys no more.

—N. J. C.