47 . Spring in New Zealand

THOU wilt come with suddenness,

Like a gull between the waves,

Or a snowdrop that doth press

Through the white shroud on the graves;

Like a love too long withheld,

That at last has over-welled.

What if we have waited long,

Brooding by the Southern Pole,

Where the towering icebergs throng,

And the inky surges roll:

What can all their terror be

When thy fond winds compass thee?

They shall blow through all the land

Fragrance of thy cloudy throne,

Underneath the rainbow spanned

Thou wilt enter in thine own,

And the glittering earth shall shine

Where thy footstep is divine.