New Zealand Verse/Ver Sacrum

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XXVIII.

Ver Sacrum.

Soft is the sun, and soft is the air, and soft is the Mother's breast;
Soft is the song she crooneth as I stretch me there to rest—
Song with its warp of wooing wind, and its weft of bird-notes clear:
How the heart it stills, and thrills, and fills . . .
’Tis Spring—oh, Spring is here!

David Will. M. Burn.

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