Dead Pine Shadows
The red pines stood like pickets
Guarding the long white road,
And o’er the terraces faces
The sin’ster shadows strode;
Out through the knotted thickets
The woof of moonbeams strayed,
And lighted the road in places,
But more was left in shade.
So the dead pine shadows muster
Life’s long, white road beside,
When forth in stealthy batches
Of gaunt, grey shapes they ride;
But the weft of joy-beams cluster
High o’er Life’s twisted glade,
And fall in gleaming patches
On barrren leagues of shade.
‘Dead Pine Shadows,’ NZ Illustrated Magazine 8.2 (May 1903): 140. Lola Ridge.
See also Verses 1905: 10.