Page:A Treasury of South African Poetry.djvu/165

 Hills in whose giant tower
 * Soft darkness hides,

And whence at evening's hour
 * Her shadow glides.

Blest moment! quickly come—
 * Thy breeze we know,

Waking the lips grown dumb,
 * The pulses slow.

Come with thy starry sky,
 * A boundless deep;

Under thy quiet eye
 * We would not sleep,

But watch the lonely land
 * Her breast unfold,

When night's grey colours stand
 * Athwart the gold;

See the long mountains bend,
 * And take new shape;

Strange shadows to descend,
 * And mists to drape.

Till morning's lighter air
 * Blows up from far,—

Day, thou art wondrous fair
 * By sun or star!

Lance Fallaw.