New Zealand Verse/"My Pipe is Small"
CXXXIII.
“My Pipe is Small.”
My pipe is small, but I will labour hard
That naught but melody shall issue thence;
And though the song, tumultuous and intense,
Inspired of passion, is to me debarred,
Yet in some golden moments happy-starred
Apollo holds me in a sweet suspense,
Breathless and rapt—and straining every sense,
I hear his lyre, and great is my reward.
That naught but melody shall issue thence;
And though the song, tumultuous and intense,
Inspired of passion, is to me debarred,
Yet in some golden moments happy-starred
Apollo holds me in a sweet suspense,
Breathless and rapt—and straining every sense,
I hear his lyre, and great is my reward.
And O! what joy when song has wed to it
The clanging choral music of the sea,
Or whirr of birds that in green shadows flit
With brisk and timid flight from tree to tree!—
When sounds like these find voice in what is writ,
O happy poet! how I envy thee!
The clanging choral music of the sea,
Or whirr of birds that in green shadows flit
With brisk and timid flight from tree to tree!—
When sounds like these find voice in what is writ,
O happy poet! how I envy thee!
Ebenezer Storry Hay.