The Hour of Memory

Horowhenua Chronicle, 20 October 1915, Page 3

The Hour of Memory

When suppers dono and pipes are lit, And thoughts ot work are put away, , While round the lire the stockmen ait And watjcih. the creeping shadows play, And tall great tales ot camp and track While the slow wood-smoke upward curls, And at a table near the back Olarrio plays pokor with the girls, And the tired dogs dream at our feet And lazily watch the cheery blazo That recompenses with its heat For blistered paws and hungry days, 1 push a little door ajar, And steal out to a garden oloso, Where our folded memories are. . . And oleander and white rose 13ring back the night that lives and burns Though gold on wattles o'er you meet, And from the dust no thought returns To mix with mrno and make it sweet. Your voice was hushed, your eyes aflame. - , Love streamed from your soft fin- j gertips,' | And wlion the hour of parting came j Vomr twining hands and clinging lips Put thoughts of parting hence, though soon The hills would colour with pale light, And the faint stars and the round moon flight,

When veil their eyes and take their Oh, flame and wonder torn apart! Can no word stir your hidden heartP —Vance Palmer.