My Lover Drives the Herds
My lover drives the herds; In broken shoes he wanders. And his shirt is torn. He is not as tall As the wild-cherry tree In my father’s garden: But in my heart he walks In robes of red and green, And on his head a helmet, And in his hand a spear. He is taller than the mountains, And he walks in my heart.
J. B.
Morton
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https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/periodicals/RADREC19290104.2.41.6
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Radio Record, Volume II, Issue 25, 4 January 1929, Page 12
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72My Lover Drives the Herds Radio Record, Volume II, Issue 25, 4 January 1929, Page 12
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