Like a black, enamoured King whispered low the thunder 
To the lights of Roslyn, terraced far asunder: 
Hovered low the sister cloud in wild, warm wonder. 

"O my love, Dunedin town, the only, the abiding! 
Who can look undazzled up where the Norn is riding, -- 
Watch the sword of destiny from the scabbard gliding! 

"Dark and rich and ringing true -- word and look for ever; 
Taking to her woman heart all forlorn endeavour; 
Heaven's sea about her feet, not the bounded river!" 

"Sister of the mountain mist, and never to be holden 
With the weary sophistries that dimmer eyes embolden, -- 
O the dark Dunedin town, shot with green and golden!" 

Then a silver pioneer netted in the rift, 
Leaning over Maori Hill, dreaming in the lift, 
Dropped her starry memories through the passioned drift: -- 

"Once -- I do remember them, the glory and the garden, 
Ere the elder stars had learnt God's mystery of pardon, 
Ere the youngest, I myself, had seen the flaming warden -- 

"Once even after even I stole ever shy and early 
To mirror me within a glade of Eden cool and pearly, 
Where shy and cold and holy ran a torrent sought but rarely. 

"And fondly could I swear that this my glade had risen newly, -- 
Burst the burning desert tomb wherein she lieth truly, 
To keep an Easter with the birds and me who loved her duly." 

Wailing, laughing, loving, hoar, spake the lordly ocean: 
"You are sheen and steadfastness: I am sheen and motion, 
Gulfing argosies for whim, navies for a notion. 

"Sleep you well, Dunedin Town, though loud the lulling lyre is; 
Lady of the stars terrene, where quick the human fire is, 
Lady of the Maori pines, the turrets, and the eyries!"