VARIOUS VERSE.

Evening Post, Volume LXXI, Issue 148, 23 June 1906, Page 11

VARIOUS VERSE.

THE FIGURE-HEAD. t ■• .' AH day long the salt tides march, Ebb and flow in the quiet bay ; Here the stranded shellfish parch, There the- long sea-tresses ' sway. Men come idly boating by — Nothing caring, nought amiss; Underneath the kindly sky Where is such a bay as this? Here the old sea-sailers rest, Mast and spar for ever gone; Winds no more from easi or west, North or south, shall urge them on. Yon is on© that sailed the seas 1 1 Fifty years ago, they say; 5l Rubbed her sides on docks 'and quays, Flaunted pennons proud and gay. Stoutly built in fashion quaint., (Long ago her builders died) f f Gay with gold and green wi&i paint , She was once a tower of pride. Like to one whom love doth light, She was ever woman-led ; For before her, day and night. Went her golden figure-head. O that love would lead as fair, Hold as firm, and prove as bravo As the carven woman there^ — Musing on the dreaming wave. t Storms arose and tempests blew, Yard-arms rollod with foam adrift — Still the figure-head waa true, ', Still it went before the ship. Through the reefs of midnight coasts, ' Where rocks towered and perils swarmed, And ice-mountains moved like ghosts, Still it led the ship unharmed. Night-lights burning like far stars N Gleams bf radiant welcome shed, ' On the tall trim mast and spars And the constant figure-head. Island seas where low winds sigh, - And red coral reefs enlace, And fish flash like meteors by — ' Showed the figure-head its face. ' Softly sailing north or south, East or west, in times of sleep, Dipping down its painted mouth It would kiss the star-sown deep. When the good ship rode at rest — Far removed from, rock and reef — In that curved and carven breast Surely there was sweet relief? Storms might rage and wind 3 might roar, • Breakers foam and billows tower, But at peace, its mission o'er^ It could -rest a! quiet hour. Lit by moor and star and sun, In this blue and placid "bay, Borne at last, their»journeys don©, Ship and figure-head decay. , ' — Roderic Quinn, in the Sydney Mail. THE FLOWER-GATHERERS. I left behind the ways of care, The crowded hurrying hours, I breathed again the woodland air, I plucked the woodland flowers. Bluebells as yet but half awake, Primroses pale and cool, Anemones like stars that shake In a green twilight pool. On these still lay the enchanted shade, The magic April sun ; With my own child a child I strayed, And thought the years were one. As through the copse she went and came My senses lost their truth; I called her by- the dear dead name That sweetened all my youth. —Henry Newbolt. in the Spectator.

Crawf ord : I noticed your wife acting strangely from my window across the street, so I came over to see if she had suddenly gone crazy. Crashaw: Oh, no; she's merely going fchrongh th© motions described in a ladies' paper to make her beautiful.