Page:A Treasury of South African Poetry.djvu/129

 SONG OF THE SEASONS.

says the antelope,

Couched in the fern?

Winter is cold,

When will springtime return?

Moist wind from the sea, set the fountains all flowing,

Hie hitherward, Spring, set the wild flowers blowing.

What says the snake,

As he creeps from the shadow?

Summer bides far,

Spring is cold in the meadow.

Sun, climb aloft, slanted beams quicken slowly;

Sheer shed, they warm both the high and the lowly.

What says the lory,

Hoarse from the spray?

Autumn brings fruit,

It is summer alway.

Droop, flowers vain, for your mission is ended,

To bear the seed babes was your beauty intended.

What says the world?

Winter's my rest;

After a revel

Slumber is best.

Sigh, sad south wind, o'er the wild ocean faring,

From ice fields afar your white frost burthen bearing.

W. C. Scully.