Wine of Evening.

She wore a red rose at her breast,

Its sister in her hair;
And all the small winds of the west
Came rippling down the rivers rest
To kiss her unaware.

The laughing sun had bowed his head
Behind a cloud of fire;
The flaming west was tulip-red,
And golden maids their aprons spread
To catch the dusks desire.

All richly down the drooping day
Some clear voice throbbing strong
Had flooded dimpled bight and bay
As with an elfin roundelay
Of wild unfettered song.

As mid the darkness of her hair
My brown girl dreamed apart,
Tall eve with all her blushes fair
Was glad so sweet a flower to wear
Clasped to her shining heart.

And I, whom happy love made wise
And happy summer kind,
From the dusk wonder of her eyes
Drank the clear wine of Paradise
To make my hot soul blind.

David McKee Wright.
N.S.W.
The Bulletin, 23 January 1913.