Versamelde gedigte

Summer morning in the Bushveld

Last Night the new moon hid her face in shame;

Like rushlights doused at dawn the stars went out;

The pale green twilight, quenched and put to rest,

Expired when o'er the perse-dark sky there came
Great rolling clouds that crashed with zig-zag flame,

And gushed with water like a water spout,

To drench the earth parched by the winter's drought,

Ere dawn could to the world its light proclaim.

But now the God that glorifies the plain

Has risen above the eastern range and made

A wondrous paradise of gold and shade

Still gem-encrusted with last midnight's rain,

Where languid paced giraffes, lords of the wold,

Browse on the green that caught the earliest gold.

Cape Times, 7 September 1946