ESSAYS IN VERSE. THE CLIMBER.
(The Alpine Club celebrated its fiftieth anniversary in Decombor, 1907). Question. What do yo win (tho scornci'3 ask), Who climb great peaks ot rock and snow ? __ What guerdon gain yo for your task, That docs not wait on thoso below? Wo see tho peak in all its might, its symmetry, its proud repose, The iroon sheds there her £tainlo?s light, There Dawn her kiss of tlamo bestows. It shimmers in tho noonday heat, And faery shadows haunt its sides; Dark comos, and there in lone retreat Tho spirit of the storm abides. On this— yoa, more than this by far— Our eyes with keen enjoyment feed. Say what tho greater glories aro That mako tho climber's boasted need? Answer. What could young Porphyro impel To vonturo in that focman's den? x What lol'o makes clear to us tho spell, That sped tho feet of Imogen? What was it that Bassanio brought, That tamed bo soon fair Portia's pride? Why was it that Diana sought, Latmos, her godhead laid aside? Words fail you? So tho mountaineer Loves yon majestic Ihrono of tnow — To him 'tis passionately clear, As Juliet was to Romeo. But if you ask the cause, 'tis vain — There are no words sinco Shakespero sleeps, Eo subtle that they can explain, # How passion through tho spirit sweeps. Tho lover's rapture is to love, Tho climber's rapture is to climb, And botb possess a heart above The petty chains of place and time. Who knows, fond questioner, how soon On theo ehall fall the sacred firo, And thou, on somo great peak at noon, Feeling, shall need not to enquire? —George Veld. Spectator. , SONNET. To Lieutenant E. H. Shaekloton and 1113 comrades, who left Now Zealand on their South Polar Expedition, January, 1908. Kin to thoso voyagers of an earlier day Who westward sailed acroba unventured eeas, Seeking the golden-shored Hosperidcs, Steer these new farei'B of the unknown way. No Eldoiado lures them now;, yet they Hear the tame call, and in their spirit stirs The firo that kindled those old venturers, Tho voice that none who hoar can disobey. Where all have failed their trackieis march may gain Tho lone and silent dreamlands of tho Pole , .Yet whether these they win or find no goal, Honour bo theirs! who in the farthest main Ths old flag 1 of their country -first unfurled, And charted the last seaway of the world. — S. R. Lyeaght. Spectator. WHEN I AM OLD. When I am old, and o'er life's meadows stealing The frosts ot autumn touch tho flowers I love, I would the sunlight, to my soul appealing, Might bring me warmth and beauty from above. The goldeurod may droop it* head, the thistla Slay send its downy children to tho sky, Aiid on each hillside chilling winds may whistle, Tho gculiau hide itself, the primrose die ; Good Lord, when that 'times comee, and all around mo Sweet faces change, and voices blest and deir Sound strange to my dull hearing and beyond me, Bid doubt to oease, and caEt out every fear — When I am old. Tho etroam3 ere clear that cleave the tranquil meadows, The reeds just touch their lips within the pool ; And circles, half of substance, half of shadow, Aro made within the silent waters cool ; And when I stand by streams that have no motion, And all my days eeems only half diviflo ; When all I know of God seems but reflection, And all I know of man is but a sign — Then fill me full of that sweet peace, that, falling Down on the pensive world liko autumn light, Bears holy songs from heaven, where dear ones, calling, Proclaim tho radiant day that haa no night — When 1 am old. When I am old, good Lord, and all around me The leaves fall, and the husks of things decay, I would not that tho forms I see confound me, Nor take my perfect faith in, thee away; I would that the Unseen and Eternal — Tho life abiding where the hoar frosts stole — May n^ke my outward autumn soft and vernal With imrard breathings from the oversoul. Then would I stand on grasEes crisp and drooping, And under rattling boughs the trees among, And know that to all things thy love is stooping In tender care. And so would I be young— When I am old. — Lewis G. Wilson. Transcript (Boston). FATE. Two shall be borne tho wholo wide world apart, And 6peak in different tongues, and havo no thought Each of the other's being/ and no heed ; And these o'er unknown ecas, to uu« known lands, Shall cross, escaping wreck, defying death ; And all unconsciously shape every act And bend each wandering step lo this •one end — • Thab one day out of darkness they shall meet And read life's meaning in. each other's eyes. And two shall walk some narrow way of life, So nearly Fide by side that should one turn Ever so little space to lejt or right. 'They needs must, stand acknowledged faco to face : And yet, with wistful eyes that never meet, With groping hands that never clasp, and lips Calling in vain to ears that never hear, Thoy seek each other all their weary days, And dio un.^ai i°fied — And this if Fate. — Susan Marr "Spaldiug. Evening Popt (New York).
We have received a ropy of the first number of "Kai Tiaki" (The Wntcher). tho monthly journal of tho nurses of New Zeahnd. It is a well edited and neatly piinted quarto of twenty-eight pages o f Ic-tterpicEs, with a simple and artistic cover. It has also a fair show of advert iscmonts. It contains a veiy good portrait of Mrs. Grace Keill, formerly Assistant Inspector of Hospitals and Deputy Registrar of Nuises, "for whom she was largely instrumental in obtaining Stata registration."
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Bibliographic details
Evening Post, Volume LXXV, Issue 45, 22 February 1908, Page 13
Word Count
976ESSAYS IN VERSE. THE CLIMBER. Evening Post, Volume LXXV, Issue 45, 22 February 1908, Page 13
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