Trees in Christchurch.

The trees wait in Christchurch
Through the calm noonday glow
To the deep tide of twilight's
Azure ebb and flow.
Till her wide-flowered dawnings
Spill fragrance again
The trees wait in Christchurch
For comfort of men.

There is peace spun in Christchurch
By the stately sister hours
To webs fine as moonlight's
Carven ivory flowers,
There are dreams walk in Christchurch
Delicately drest,
With her bright silk of rivers
A shawl for their breast.

Ah, there's never a pilgrim
Comes wandering alone
But her brown leaves, her green light
Seal him her own.
And he who is weary
Of eyes or of soul
May touch but the cloak
Of the trees and be whole.