The New Zealand Railways Magazine, Volume 10, Issue 4 (July 1, 1935.)
An inland sea of strange resistless tide,
Cold as the steel-bright flood of Arctic floes.
A legend-haunted lake where spirits lost abide,
Far o'er the waters rise the smoking snows.
No buoy to tell the boatman where he goes,
But wild white storms pounce swiftly from the hills
To lash the shores; and molten sunset spills
A bridge to hush the waters to repose.
On these cold waters no home-going file
Of kindly sea-birds, but the thunder's boom
Shocks the dun hills, and sets the white clouds falling.
The strange waves break, and from the burial isle
The flickering torch foretells the chieftain's doom,
And spirit voices drift in darkness calling.