POETRY.

Evening Post, Volume LXVIII, Issue 62, 10 September 1904, Page 11

POETRY.

THE DEATH OF PRESIDENT KRUGKR. Vain i« the breath that fills tho trump of Fame ! Tho world upon its way Bcaice inketh noto of tho once dreaded namu Of him, who died to-day. Yet thie was ho whoso little realm bo lato Our utmost power defied : The country clown who matched his peasant btato Against an Empire's pride. Ahl let tho past's unhappy memories sleep I Those bitter years havo fled; And 'tis our wholesome English way to keep No quarrel with tho dead. Moreover, in our so much slandered land, Bo it said in her defence, Ace, exile, and misfortune fctill command Instlnctivo reverence. These his best titles to our homago are : And- as it passes, lo ! Etf^sarf io&S^lSf-V^ before the car 'J nat benrs hea 1 anocnt foe. —Edward Sydney Tyke, iv the Spectator. SLEEP. Soft through tho misty meadows of the night . Went poppied Sleep. So drowsily she passed Ero I beheld her she was out of flight. Would I had plucked her robe, caught at her hand, Held her upon my heart) and kissed her eves ! For Night's sad sister, Thought, now holds tho land. And I feel dead caresses, hear dead words, And tho dusk teems with dear remembrances, Drifting from out tho dark like windblown birds. Till to tho careless stars wild sobs aw thrown — In tho drear night-time, in the tardy dawn, All things seem little, saving Lovo alono. —•New York Tribune.