The Spike or Victoria University College Review June 1918

When Day Stands Still

When Day Stands Still

There's a big rose by my window
Hanging a heavy head,
A golden-yellow, drowsy rose
With not a petal shed,
But full of sweets, and rounded rips,
And dreaming in the noon—
The golden hour, the golden rose . . .
Why must they waken soon?

M.L.N.