# Shingle-Short and Other Verses/The Paddock - Song of the Sunbeams and Strawberries

The Paddock.
Song of the Sunbeams and Strawberries.
“Hey, Brothers!” “Ho, Brother!” “Where are you?” “In the heart of this Pine, Helping it secretly smell and shine.”— “Changing its coat for this drop of dew From fire and crimson to pearl and blue.”— ​“Here’s a host of us, down in the creek, Riding ripples at hide-and-seek, Pencilling living I’s and O’s On a pebble the water overflows, Or weaving the links of a golden net Round jewels of jasper, opal and jet.” “We are tressing the Ti with ribbons of light.”— “Painting Capeweed yellow, and Clover white.”— “Brightening a cloud.”—“Brightening mud.”— “Kissing a blossom out of a bud.”— “Summoning seeds.”—“Sweetening blood.”— “I am warming this root.”—“And the breezes, I.”— “I am telling a joke to the jubilant sky.”— “And I am at work in this Poplar-tree, Helping a stunted shoot go free.”— “Busy ye all are?” “Busy are we!”
“Hey. Brothers!” “Ho, Brother!” “What are you doing, and where are you, where?” “I’m streaking the yard where the chips lie spread, Matai, Rata, with yellow and red.”— “I am dancing in at the kitchen-door. Come along, Brother, we’ll gild the floor, Wash the brown of the walls with gold, Burnish the window, blazon the air, And ring with a glory the little one’s hair.”— “I am soothing, smoothing, the kitten’s fur.— See her stretching, and hear her purr!”— “Janet, washing her bread-pan, sings. And the world is the better by two bright things.”— “I am ripening her cheek.”—“I laugh in her eye, ​And she dimples and laughs, without knowing why.”— “A wrinkled old face I lovingly kiss, And whisper of Hope unto Helplessness.”— “Here are clean, bright dishes to twinkle in,”— “I’ve bubbles to blow in this great yeast-jar.”— “I’m making a sun of this Kerosene-tin.”— “And I’m turning this tumbler into a Star.”— “Busy ye all are?” “Busy we are!”
“Hey, Brothers!” “Ho, Brother!” “Where are you?” “We are here at last. How did the others arrive so fast? Are we behind-hand? for we see All are settled at work but we. Something good have you got to do? Share with us, Brothers! Let us work, too!”
“Come, come along, then! On the ground, (Stoop, and under the leaves push through), Look, Brothers, what I have found!— Waiting Strawberries seated round, Waiting for me and you! Shine! Shine! Stand in a ring! Richness and Ripening, Flavour and Fragrance bring, Shine through, through! Shine! Shine, every Ray! Make we, and take for pay, Every Strawberry ripe to-day— ​Close up, close up, our resolute ring! —Hush! Hearken! The Strawberries sing!
The Strawberries.
To anybody passing near, Or thro’ the Paddock going, It might appear that nothing here But simple Grass was growing. Yet let him search, and he shall see Where, deep within the Grass, are we!
Here, all our length of life, in ease And wealth have we been lying; A hundred faithful ministries Round our unfitness plying; Bidding the berry from the flower, Rosy from green, and sweet from sour.
Till, toiling not, but giving way To natural, kindly uses, Nourish’d, nurs’d, by Night, by Day, How sweet are grown our juices! How round within our narrow niche We glow! how rosy-ripe and rich!
The Sunbeams.
And still to grow, and still to glow, Still, serene enjoyment To garner that ye may bestow, Be this your whole employment, And your concern with Destiny No more but this:—to bid It be!
​The bud a blossom would become, The flower for fruit is asking; But ye have added up your sum,— Be busy but with basking! Longing’s to parts and portions lent. Unto Completion comes Content.
(Enter Janet.)
Janet (calling)—Elizabeth....Elizabeth....Why, there you are Liz! A fine hunt I have had after you. What have you been doing?....Nothing? You? At this hour of the morning? Hurrah! ’Tisn’t I that am caught this time, is it, Liz? Well, but who can wonder at it, though? Who’s to blame you? Oh, what a morning! The snow so bright up yonder, and the grass so bright down here, and the fresh, fresh sky....But the bread! the bread! I must not forget it.
Eliz.—The bread? Has it risen already?
Janet—Risen? Already? Oh, I like that! Why it sprang to the top of the pan the instant you were out of the kitchen (which is....How long ago is it, eh, Liz?), and I sent Andy out for the rata, stoked up, blew up, and then, as there was still no sign of you,—why, behold, Ma’am, your Complete Family Baker! Jeanie was starting to cry for you, though, and I have those strawberries for the coach, you remember, to gather while the day is still cool. So in with you, O you lazy, loitering, wool-gathering dreamer of dreams, and mistress of a household! and see to your bread and your baby.
​Eliz.—Good for evil! you shall be called a good girl, and so you certainly are, Janet, for seeing to that bread. Really, I had no idea....the time has gone so fast....
Janet.—I sent Andy to find you, but the little scamp soon trotted back;Hine always fascinates the children. That reminds me—I forgot to tell you that that ancient Maori Princess arrived just as I had got the bread in, and is now squatting in the kitchen, telling the children the queerest tales—By the way, Liz., is it really true that she is to do something in the garden? or is that only a little legend of the present day?
Eliz.—No, no, Janet.—The poor old soul! I told her she could come. She can put in some of those late seeds.
Janet.—A poor old soul she is, indeed! I believe she grows a year older every week.—No, Elizabeth, but you should see her this morning—such a hunchy, bunchy lump of tatters, and tattoo! And I am sure I have fewer hairs upon my head than she wrinkles on her face—that dried-up, puckery brown desert, with the two tired camp-fires at one end—her poor old peering eyes.—Are you really off at last, Liz.? Stay—wasn’t it here you settled those seeds should be sown? for I could be out here, you know, and show her....Oh, yes, laugh away! How long a spell did you have, pray?
(Exit Elizabeth.)
Ah, you lucky, lucky Liz!....
Well, I must gather the strawberries.
(Exit Janet.)