Page:A Treasury of South African Poetry.djvu/79

 VAN RIEBECK.

it was the Lady Moon, Or that dream-laden opiate "Magaliesberg," when hours were late, And wakeful crickets shrilled their tune;

Or maybe 'twas the soul of grape, That as the eve of Christmas drew To Christmas morning, woke anew The old-world shadows of the Cape.

I saw Van Riebeck standing near, In leathern jerkin, sword in hand; His boat was beached upon the sand, And three sea-lights were burning clear.

A little man he seemed to me, Thick-set and firm and keenly-eyed, Broad-belted, gloved, and hatted wide, With buckled shoe and hosened knee.

Like one who, musing, seemed to know The fancies thronging through the mind, He answered what my glance defined, With that quaint grace of long ago:—