The New Zealand Railways Magazine, Volume 8, Issue 6 (October 2, 1933)
The sand lies damp and hard, a narrow way
Between the sparkling sea and sunbathed land,
The cliffs tower high above me, wanly grand
With crumbling tracks and shaded bands of clay;
And I step gaily forward on my way.
Sharp gullies crack the lonely wall's grim height,
Slips have come down, but through an arch of rock
Standing serene against the ocean's shock,
I step from land of shade to land of light
A vivid land of blue, bright green and white.
The cape juts on into the sea and sky.
I climb an ever upward winding track,
But pause to rest awhile and to look back
On shining sands. Unheeded hours might fly,
Or Time himself stand still and wonder why.
It is so hushed but for the gannets’ screams,
The world becomes a lost, forgotten place
With no loved form and no remembered face,
Until across my sea a crude boat steams,
And I am rudely wakened from my dreams.