Page:A New Zealand verse (1906).pdf/265

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My Father.
229
The brave white witnesses To the truth withinTook the dart of folly, Took the jeer of sin;Crying, “Follow, follow, Back to Eden-gate!”They trod the Polar desert, Met a desert fate.
Be laurel to the victor, And roses to the fair,And asphodel Elysian Let the hero wear;But lay the maiden lilies Upon their narrow biers—The lone grey company Before the pioneers.

Jessie Mackay.

CLXI.

My Father.

He is old now,And Time and Care have long agoCovered his locks with winter’s snow,And lined his brow.
His step is slow,Oft in his walk he stands to rest,With folded arms upon his breast,And head bent low.
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