Page:A Treasury of South African Poetry.djvu/236

 SONNETS OF THE CAPE. I. , when my feet at evening homeward tread
 * The stately cloisters of the oak along,
 * My fervent soul breaks into grateful song,

And I a glad, rapt worshipper am led. God, what a glorious prospect is outspread!
 * Impersoned nature here hath built her shrine:
 * On yon great altar sacrifice divine

She offers to her Maker. On the head Of the majestic peak upon the west,
 * Her favoured seat, at eve oft sitteth she,

Soothing the busy city into rest,
 * Whilst the sun setting lights the golden sea.

Here, in thy fane, bright Presence, I divest
 * My heart of lower thoughts, and bow to heaven and thee.

II.

Dost thou not love, O angel of the night,
 * Above all others this fair southern land?
 * For thou hast gemmed its skies with lavish hand,

With rarest stars and constellations bright.