Select Poetry.

New Zealand Mail, Issue 30, 19 August 1871, Page 18

Select Poetry.

MORNING AT SEA IN THE TROPICS. By G-. G. M'C. Night waned and wasted, and the fading stars Died out like lamps that long survived a feast, And the moon, pale with watching, sank to rest Behind the cloud-piled ramparts of the main. Young, blooming morn, crowned with her bridal wreath, Bent o'er her mirror clear —the faithful sex — And gazing on her loveliness therein, Blushed to the brows, 'till every imaged charm Flung roses on the bosom of the wave ; Then glancing heavenward both, they blushed again, As came the sun to claim his radiant bride, And sea and sky seemed but one rose of morn Thenceforth they grew in glory, and the world Shot back her lesser light upon the day, And night sped on to seek the sombre shades That sleep in silent caves beyond the sea. Meanwhile our ship slid on, with breathing sails, Fraught with the melody of murmur'd songs ; The gentle zephyr chanted to the morn, And showers of diamonds flashed before the prow, And sternwards whirled, unstrung, pale beads of foamPearls from the loosened chaplet of the sea. Mid these the flame-bright nautilus, that seemed Itself a floweret cast upon the stream, Spread out its crimson sail and drifted on ; Beyond arose a cloud—as 'twere —of birds That leapt from out the wave to meet the sun, Flew a short circuit till their wings grew dry, And seaward fell in showers of silver rain. Mid these careered the dolphin-squadrons swift, With mail of changeful hue and iris tints, And here and there a floating sea flow'r passed— A living creature —none the less a flower, That lives its little life in love, and dies for joy, Unmissed 'mid myriads in the sapphire sea. The day grew calmer, hotter, and our barque Lay like a sleeping swan upon a lake. And such soft airs as blew from off the land Brought with them fragrant odors, and we felt That orange-groves lay blooming 'neath the sun That blazed so fiercely overhead at sea. "We heard (with Fancy's ear)a distant bell. And through the haze that simmered on the main Pictured a purple shore, a convent tow'r, And Bnowy cots, that from the dark hill-side, Peeped forth 'tween plantain patches at the sky, Or smiled through groves of cocoas on the sea.