Page:A New Zealand verse (1906).pdf/80
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The Pink and White Terraces.
When strangers shall these wilds enclose.But see! in all that lively spreadOf blue and white and vermeil red,How dark with growths of greenest gloss,Just at the edge of that first ledge,A little rocky islet peepsInto the crater-caldron’s deeps.Along the ledge they lightly cross,And from that place of vantage gazeO’er all the scene — and every phaseThe current takes as down it strays:They note where’er, by step or stair,By brimming bath, on hollow reefOr hoary plain, its magic rainCan reach a branch, a flower, a leaf—The branching spray, leaf, blossom gay,Are blanched and stiffened into stone!So round about lurks tracery strewnOf daintiest-moulded porcelain-ware,Or coral wreaths and clusters rare,A white flint-foliage! rather saySuch fairy-work as frost aloneWere equal to, could it o’erlayWith tender crust of crystals fair,—Fine spikes so delicately piled—Not wintry trees, leafstripped and bare,But summer’s vegetation, rich and wild.