CHRISTMAS 1907

Evening Post, Volume LXXIV, Issue 150, 21 December 1907, Page 11

CHRISTMAS 1907

i ~ Seas about her galloping, tumbling, and thunder-swept, Up the trammeled Channel flood -the fog rolls thunder-driven, At her bosom snows asleep, and the frosts have crept . - .Frozen-footed down her fields 'neath a wintry heaven.Bitter winds are in her streets, roaring through her shires. Sad as love whose sweets are lost the pallid Sun leans forth, Yet from but this exile fair all our hearts' desires Stream to thee, the Motherland, the Homeland of the north. Thou hast scourged us many times, beaten us' with rods, Fed us on the bread of grief to break a bitter fast, Turned us from the door to' cry our plaints' before the gods, i Turned us to the outer lands, wayfarers to the last ; Yet, for all this sin of thine, how the niiunxght glows, When beneath the cloud of sleep in this island land, Through the benison of dreams we tread once more' thy snows, And watch the grey Atlantic plunge along thy hoary strand! Here the splendid suniniertide blows the Christmas chimes Into silvern echoes, born for His, the Christ-child's sako-y-Through the dark-plumed mountain" woods the rata flames and climbs, The broom is pallid on the ridge, the purple flax-blooms wake. Gentle nights of peace tinveil the winking South star-fires — Ah, our England, stern and chill, but dear beyond' all else, To "Bee above white distances thy thousand shining spires, . To hear across the frosty calms thy fond -far-calling bells ! But another day burns out, but another night is crossed - By its moon, before the bells shall ring in Holyday, Then, in faith, our eyes shall see all our lives-'havc lost When' we left, our youth behind, and faltering, came away; Hedges bare in English lanes, moorlands stark and still, Glinting crinkled meadow-ways and a naked wood that grieves, English homesteads in the snow snug beneath the hill, v .And '^imjon' g]o^g;, Wes/jMt |f|ea v m ,^ftw,4b,p f b^dmg, ,-. e^vosv* ''" ' ! * ' ' ' ■ V ' ' ■ 'V'" ; '• ■ 'i •i ' fV ' *<• England sent us-forth long since with no blessed words — 'Ah-, the deadening heartbreak when the white cliffs died ! Still, since she is England yet', like fain honiing birds, So our thoughts go back to her down the great sea-tide. .When the placid Christmas moon on the brow/ of night ' <- Calls to worship of the Child, and wakes each steeple-head, Then our exiled souls shall hear in a sad delight " Noel," Noel," breathed low where the north wind hath'fled. Shall she once forget us? 'Say. you still at her breast— Shall her might take heed of us, her wanderers, not again. Tell her that the fledgelings dream of the old home-nest, Though their wings have beat the wind for home m vain. And where aye and evermore are' sweet fields under heaven, And where aye and evermore the green is. never lost, Still our hopes go surging back to the dales of Devon, /Dumb beneath The slumbrous snow, and manacled with irost. Here are kindred hearts and true, brothers of the blood, Who have proffered welcome with a tight hand-grip ; Sons of daring men who rode the tramping flood When the lone horizon called them, ship by shin. Here among the "brethren set equal hand to hand, Life hath gifts of grace the North hath never known. Blame us, an you will, that e'er we pray to stand "There among our native downs, and there alone. May we never out of dreams know the joyous day ' ;'When white above the far sea-verge the chalk chits rear; When in secret ecstasy our hearts shall say, "Life hath crowned us mightily, for England s.near. Shall we never, never more, mark the silent spires ' Sheer against the litten sky, sentinel and tall, . Bee fhe mad Spring bourgeoning through her golden shires^ Peel the wind that bears the sweet ot April s carnival." On the wine-dark lustrous sea night droops calm from God, Drugged with visions luminous for many a wanderer s peace; Northern April's meads that lift the flaunting golden-rod, Primroses and daffodils, to lure the breeze. 'And, Wke'heaven-hloion -melodies ebbing through the_ dark, ' They catch the blackbird's ravishment, and high above the vale,' • ,7777 Sear; too,- amid the spanless blue, a breeze-hung lark, And the tremulous twilight rapture of the haunted nightingale. — C. Allan Mare is. Wellington. " RENASCENCE. THE SOUTHERN CROSS. .Fragrantly the crimson rose Portuguese explorers bent Round the temples granite plinths no b thoir knoeg . Violets^ and hyacinths promise ot an aid divino Scatter perfume; on he wall p storm . tossed sailora saw in thee Of some immemorial ball Refulgently above them shine. Creeps the jasmine, and would hide uc ! u n ,: n I o t mv storv Wounds that mar the shattered side A miracle ot mjstcr,. 60 things soft and delicate Erra other royers of tho main Cluster round the rough and great, Came to this fair Australian shore, !And were ruin seems to reign The dusky natives round thee wove Boauty claims her own again. wreath of legendary lore; — R Ellis Roberts. By dark lagoons, by moaning bars, Pall M*U Magazine. m ! Around V m , camp-fire's ruddy light, * They watched thy ever-conslnnt stars Shod radianco o'er tho moonless night. A MUDDY STREET. ( nd nQW lI)0 h j to man colints the hours A muddy street, with rain a-swill. By thee, beside scrub-sheltered "W* Contiguous to Ludgate UiH- When camping with his Hocks and heids V trudge along, a trifle wet Companioned by thy cheering rays. Where some ungallant lundaulolto Belated fishers homeward stoop gUtered «» from face to frill. J,^.^ Kr I see him, with a sudden thrill— Iridisccncc across tho deep. He comes towards me— we have met — u,-:<u i, r :^f» P ffhen melts to rose and violet Dear steadiest Cross! With brigntcr A muddy street. _ T £™ We drift on clouds of daffodil, _ They como nnd go, thou dost remain JSot hear, the clatter close and shrill, Tho warden o! Australian skies. To U3 the magic path is sot Emblem of peaco goodwijl and love, With stars and rainbow fringed, and yet On this and every Chri3tina«<ido j To all the others it is still May by theso guerdons from abovo j A muddy street. Our native laud bo sanctified. — Jestie Pope. E. C. Morrica. Bt. James's Budeefc. Sydney Stock and Station Jourual

THE BALLAD GF THE LADYKILLER. By OAN'ON FREDK. LANGERIDGE, D. Litt., Author of "Sent Back by the Angels, etc. (All Rights JKoser/ed). THE PRELUDE. The fads and the fashions alter, The years they come and go, But still in tho tiro of Christmas Will memories flicker and glow. v Wo sat as the shadows doopened, '\ Old cronies — hearty and old : Oar pipes were a mist around us, The wine shot flushes of gold. Then 1 ono of u& whispered, "Joseph !— Now, where does our Joseph hide?" And somo of us laughed to remember, And Eoma of us thought and sighed, THE BALLAD. This is the Story of JoEoph, < Tho sweetest of sweet young men, Who. was born in a certain county, No matter precisely when. Hg said, "I will look on the maidens Of high and of low degree, And I iear that most of the maidens Will perish for love of me. "They must ba sighing and sobbing — Thoy know the points of a roan — But I will break myself gently, And spare whenever I can." He looked at himself in a mirror — There needed only a touch ; Ho likod himself altogether — He likod himself very* 1 much. To plaster his locks for conquest The heart of a bear grew still : Like mutton-chops were his whiskers, Done- on a silver grill. The hips of his peg-top trousers , ':T,wp ravishing 'curves, r&vealed: 'They pinched him over his ankles Till often he nearly squealed. He tilted his hat a trifle — Its brim was cunningly curled : Ho swung his oa.ne of inala'cca, And flashed on a wondering world. Then camo the maidens a-tripping, The maidens fair to be seen : "Birds' of tropical plumage, In cages of crinoline. Their hair was rolled with a roller: Their hats were pretty pork-pies : 'Toor little things!" thought Joseph, And tears welled up in his cyos. "Poor 'little things!" thought Joseph: "Your waists are extremely smalt: You haven't much room lor sighing — And how caii I' mmarryy y you all?" Tho' anxious to spare the maidens, lie looked at them once and again — The pretty ones all were' silly: The clever ones all wore plain. < Or, if ono were pretty and clpyer, it appeared on a nearer view' She could not support a husband In the style that was Joseph's due. So, while. he was looking about him, Aud blaming tho mcdcUesomo stars, A change came over Joseph— Ho couldn't pronounco liis "Ti.'s." A woman was "vewy pwctty:" The day was "cxtweamly waw," And every sentence was fated To ond and begin with "Haw." His whiskers were lender weepers, That floated upon the wind ; His eye was ecrewed to an eyeglass: It wearied of humankind. But, strangely, most of tho maidens Lost nono of their looks or light, And appeared to tako refreshment With inodorato appetite. Their heads were castled with chignons: Jt'ichus were in dciicato blow: They marvelled at Wilkie Celling And carolled -"Madame Angot." And again, while ho blamed the planets For lailuro in common sense, A change had fallen on Joseph — Joseph had grown intense. He caid his piayers to a sunflower : Bluo ohina made him cry ; And he said, when they called him pallid, "My lily! I saw it dio." Ho murmured of Botticelh", With a rapturous codfish smile: His creed was the Worship of Beauty — And Beauty was one with Bile. And tho looks of thß maidens round him Wero full of a greenish woe, Like the looks of maidens on steamers Or ever they hasto' below. They leaned in a peacock posture ; They" btared with a.. sunflower staro— Maiyoilous moony maidens With uonderful wandering hair. Yet onco did the soul of Joseph Jump out of its high-art skin : " 'Air," eaid tho sweol-voiccd barber, " 'Air is a lectle thin." Then Joseph arose in tho apron, And stared as at one from the dead— • JIo was bald, with a corporation ; And Jobeph took to hia bed To-day his hair is a toupct : His stays are a pitiless pair. And he puts his teeth in wator, Liko the lily he used to wear. And tho loud and lusty maidens, Lighting a cigarette, Cracking a jaw at hockey, Or closing an eyo at the net— They do not wither for Joseph, Liko buds in a surly spring: But they 6ay when he tries to ogle, "Tho funny old crumbly thing." "Some of these financial prophets of good cheer," ,^iid Thonws W. Lawson, "remind niu of the man who dropped a nickel in a blind beggar's hat and exclaimed in a benevolent voice: 'There, my poor fellow, is a quarter for you.' 'Why on earth,' said the man's companion, 'did you give him a nickel and sny it was a quarter?' 'Oh,' v.-as the reply, '1 wanted to cheer him uc' "