W. Selwyn.
THE ERYTHRINA TREE.
A CAROL OF THE WOODS.
Bright, glorious Erythrina tree,
Queen of the forests near the sea,
Herald of springtide wild and free,
Thy scarlet blossoms reared on high
Above the woods in beauty lie,
Tinted in russet-purple dye.
While morning beams in laughing glances
Are quivering amongst thy branches
And glowing flow’rs as day advances.
Bright, glorious Erythrina tree,
Queen of the woods beside the sea,
Haunt of the sun-bird and the bee.
’Neath sunny skies they feast for hours,
Quaffing sweet nectar from thy flow’rs,
Whose scarlet petals fall in showers.
On dark and amethystine wing
Flitting from flower to flower they sing
Their joyous songs to thee in spring.
A shower of ringing notes on high
Apparently from out the sky,
Descend to earth all merrily.
While the Cicada’s ceaseless strain
From day to day—again, again,
Is heard through forest, dell, and lane,
Thrilling the woods, a wild refrain.
Bright, glorious Erythrina, how
Thy scarlet blossoms clothe each bough,
The “Red man”[30] of the woods art thou,
With thy broad banner floating free,
Proclaiming “seed time” silently,
To each dark aborigine.
No written calendars have they,
Thy early flow’rs brook no delay,
The season due, for toil all day.
When Kafir maids with hoe in hand,
Off to the fields a cheerful band—
They go to plant umboua[31] land,
Singing a wild, wild roundelay,
While o’er each pick[32] the sunbeams play,
Working in time—the livelong day.
Bright, glorious Erythrina tree!
As time flies imperceptibly,
The spring’s precursor thou shalt be.
High o’er the forest dark and green,
Thy crown of beauty will be seen,
While sweeping seasons intervene,
And many a field of golden corn
Spread over sloping hill and lawn
Shall ripen on each jocund morn,
And many a brilliant sun-bird’s song
Shall echo the lone woods among,
While red-winged Lories pass along,
And from the shadowy depths below,
Their deep-toned notes in cadence flow,
As sounding through the woods they go,
Far from the busy world away,
Where, singing, toils the bee all day
’Mid the deep woods where sunbeams play.
Bright, glorious Erythrina tree!
Remote from cities—near the sea
My winged thoughts have flown to thee.
Queen of the woods! I love thee well,
Oh! for a home with thee to dwell
For ever in the forest dell.
From life’s stern battle would I hide
By some bright sparkling fountain’s side,
Regardless of all time or tide,
Forgotten be the world’s wild roar,
The turmoils of her care-worn shore—
Oblivion shield me evermore,
My canopy the sheltering trees,
My dream—the song of birds and bees:
Good-bye to all things—saving these.
M. E. Barber.
Grahamstown, March 9, 1884.