Tropic Winds.

Strayed from over the tropic seas,
Rich with odours of shaken trees,
Welcome hither, O sweet newcomer,
Fairy wind of the dawning summer;
Leave the golden glamour of home,
Palm-fronds shading the coral foam,
Scarlet petals and purple trails,
Wide blue waters and wing-like sails;
Here are valleys and glades as fair:
All things wait for your coming there.
Gladden the slave of the toiling town:
Lighten the labour of those weighted down:
Scatter the smoke-cloud heavy and grey:
Chase all cares from the mind away:
Dry the tear on the mourner's cheek:
Bring sweet rest to the worn and weak:
Till the heart grows calm, and the reeling brain
Turns refreshed to its work again.
Blow, soft wind, till the far stars fade,
And the harvest falls to the reaper's blade,
Where leaves are sere and the tuis fly,
And the snow-clouds drift in a sunless sky.

—J. R. Hastings.

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