Page:A New Zealand verse (1906).pdf/132

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The Mountain Spirit.

LV.

The Mountain Spirit: a Glimpse of Mount Cook.

 Saw ye a peak ’mid the ranges— Majestic, where peaks are high—Cradled in billows of sombre mist Above where the keas fly?Yon is a resting-place reserved For kingly folk alone;None but the bravest feet may touch The Mountain Spirit’s throne.
 Watched ye at night o’er the ranges, Through Earth’s remotest ways,Like shades of far-off splendour, steal A nameless purple haze?’Tis a carpet of ether weaving With restfulness repleteLaid down where gulley-ways would chafeThe Mountain Spirit’s feet.
 Heard ye the North Wind chasing Repose from the digger’s hut,When the rumbling sluice had ceased to flow And the hydrant lips were shutBy the hand of icy winter? Ye trembled at the noise,Not recognizing in your dread The Mountain Spirit’s voice.
 Felt ye a heart-deep loneness Come o’er ye, as winter creeps,When twilight set on your whare-roof Away from the mountain peaks?
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