14 PLANTS OP NEW ZEALAND 



But thin their vesture now — the restless grass, 



Bending and dancing as the breeze goes by, 

 Catching quick gleams and cloudy shades that pass, 



As shallow seas reflect a wind-stirred sky. 

 Ah ! nobler far their forest raiment was 



From crown to feet that clothed them royally. 

 Shielding their mysteries from the glare of day. 



Ere the dark woods were reft and torn away. 



Well may these plundered and insulted kings, 



Stripped of their robes, despoiled, uncloaked, discrowned, 

 Draw down the clouds with white enfolding wings, 



And soft aerial fleece to wrap them round. 

 To hide the scars that every season brings. 



The fire's black smirch, the landslip's gaping wound ; 

 Well may they shroud their heads in mantle grey. 



Since from their brows the leaves were plucked away ! 



Gone is the forest world, its wealth of life, 



Its jostling, crowding, thrusting, struggling race. 

 Creeper with creeper, bush with bush at strife. 



Warring and wrestling for a breathing space ; 

 Below, a realm with tangled rankness rife. 



Aloft, tree columns, shafts of stateliest grace. 

 Gone is the forest nation. None might stay ; 



Giant and dwarf alike have passed away. 



Gone are the forest birds, arlioreal things. 



Eaters of honey, honey-sweet of song. 

 The tui, and the bell-bird, — he who sings 



That brief, rich music we would fain prolong. 

 Gone the wood-pigeon's sudden whirr of wings ; 



The daring robin, all unused to wrong. 

 Wild, harmless, hamadryad creatures, they 



Lived with their trees, and died, and passed away. 



And with the birds the flowers, too, are gone 



That bloomed aloft-ethereal, stars of light ; 

 The clematis, the kowhai like ripe corn, 



Russet, though all the hills in green were dight : 

 The rata, draining from its tree forlorn 



Rich life-blood for its crimson blossoms bright. 

 Red glory of the gorges — well-a-day ! 



Fled is that splendour, dead and passed away. 



