BOOKS AND AUTHORS.

Dominion, Volume 4, Issue 1174, 8 July 1911, Page 9

BOOKS AND AUTHORS.

VERSES OLD AND NEW.

MATSONG,

I am wary of winter the cold days tarry Though April is over with lons delay, And I would that desire and delight that , marry In song could carry mo swiftly whither They bore me, a boy, in my times of play; But to-morrow at length I shall journey thither . ' Past bonnio St. Johhstonu that grows .not grey. •■ • I was iranl in spring to return to the high land, To look for a little on sea and spray. On tho heather hills of the shire of Arg.i And the loch and the island, the;spai green spaces 'Twist sheltering hill and borderi: bay; ; But flowers grow fairest in landwa places And I would be in the North to-day. Where tho land rolls up toward many t mountain With dens and glens and glades by tl way, Whero • a thousand waters of fall ai . fountain That find their account in the riches reaping Fill full tha tides of the swift, swei . Tay, Who hath in his gift, in his care, in h keeping, Tha wondrous music and mirth of Ma; —"Spectator." THE MANY-EYED-AND MANY- . WINGED. "The many-eyed and many-winged host named in the Hebrew tongue Cherubii and Seraphim . . . tho appellation ( Seraphim plainly tenches their cvei moving about things divine, their coi stanoy, warmth, keenness, and the seetl ing of that persistent, indomitable, infle: ible motion . . . But the, appellatio of tho Cherubim denotes their knowlede, and their vision of God."—Dionysius th Areopagite.' The burning seraphs, of created things Most near to thee; These arc all wings. They cannot see Thy face; so close they are to thy Divinity They soar within thy light, Plunge through the rushing river of.th; grace; To them it is a night Fulfilled .of ecstasy, Where loved and lover meet in lore's'era brace. Far off beyond that zone of moving fire, The steadfast cherubim All-wise Thy Being hymn, Thy neighbourhood eternally desire. Their anguished eyes Are ever fixed on thy Reality, « - Yet there they may not be: Thoy cannot rise, Love hath not made them free. Thy heart they know, that dread and deep Abyss. Thy heart they know! Yet cannot come more near. The torment of the seer Is theirs, that all shall see and all must miss.' In vain - • Their sweeping vision of supernal things; 'Tis but a deoper pain, Since tho One Truth they teach, They, may not reach— They have no wings! Ah, can it bo That here, all grief above, Is still played out' earth's bitterest tragedy? . Must those who clearest see Thy beauty, linger in this twilight dim? Dear God, who well, dost love All men and angels, of thy charity Pluck from thy mercy's breast Feathers of lore, so thy poor cherubim • Take wing, and fly to thee and be at rest! jj I —Evelyn Underbill.

THE HEAP OF EAGS. Ono .night, -when-.1 -went -down-;■■■•■ Thames. side, in London Town, A heap of rags saw I, And set me down, close by. • That thing could shout and bawlj But showed no face at all. When any steamer passed, And blew a loud, shrill blast, That heap of rags would sit And make a sound liko it; When struck the clock's deep bell, It made these peals as well; When cold winds moaned around, It mocked them.with that sound; When all was quiet, it' Toll into a strange fit: It sighed and moaned, would roar, It laughed, and blessed, and swore. Yet that poor thing, I know, Had neither friend nor foe; Its blessing or its curse Made no ono better or worso< Was it. a man .that had Suffered till he went mad? ' So many showers and not 'One rainbow in the lot; Too many bitter fears •■ To inako a poarl from tears. -William H. Darics.