Wait for Me...
ON’T go so quickly’. . . for the wind is calling As he ruffles through the newness of the grass, And the wattle with her fluffy yellow bubbles Waits to shower them on my hair as I pass. v Wait for me... I’m coming ... though the birch trees With their new pale leaves bid me stay, . And the frail pink blossom buds are quivering So softly that I daren’t steal away. The primroses, a golden carpet weaving, Are raising starry faces to the sky . While quiet-eyed the daffodils are blowing, And lazily the thistledown drifts by. Don’t hurry . . . for the dragonflies are tilting, The blackbird shouts his song beneath the trees, The violets are breathing magic fragrance "Mid the grave beauty of anemones. Wait for me... I’m coming... though the willows To me wave proudly from the river's brink, And gnats are dancing gaily in the shallows Where brown-eyed cows come slowly down ta drink. The poplars on the sandy-hill are silver, The shadows there. are velvety and black, But wait for me... wait... for I am coming! li ts Spring who is holding ‘me back!
A.N.I.
C.
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https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/periodicals/RADREC19300822.2.55
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Radio Record, Volume IV, Issue 6, 22 August 1930, Page 31
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189Wait for Me... Radio Record, Volume IV, Issue 6, 22 August 1930, Page 31
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