ESSAYS IN YEKSE. THE STORM.

Evening Post, Volume LXXVII, Issue 102, 1 May 1909, Page 13

ESSAYS IN YEKSE. THE STORM.

I watched the shadows sweep the tawny hills, I heard the long, low sobbing of the wind • I saw the lightning flash from yonder sky, Leaving the thunder-crashes far behind. I watched tho angry tear-drops of the clouds Descending fast in torrents from on high. The earth was bowed beneath the wrath of Thor, , Who, with his hammer, clove the leaden sky. The sobbing of the wind still louder grew, Until I cried aloud in my despair, "And wilt Thou let the storm fiend blight the earth, Leaving his mark of devastation there?" But, even as I spoke, the rain-drops ceased. The thunder fainter grew, until the sky Re-donned her garb of peace-instilling blue, No longer by the lightning torn awry. —Violet E. Ludford. Wellington. THE BUNCH OF LARKS. Portly he was, in ' carriage somewhat grand ; Of gentleman he bore the accepted marks ; He thrid the busy streets, and in his hand He bore a bunch of larks. There be some things which may be carried — yes, A gentleman may carry larks — if dead ; Or any slaughtered game; not fish, still less The homely beef or bread. I met him in the street, and turn'd about, And mused long after he had flaunted by; A bunch of larks ! and bis intent, no doubt, To have them in a pie. Yes, four-and-twenty larks baked in a pie; O what a feast of melody ia there; The ringing chorus of a summer day; A dish of warbling air ! How many dusty wanderers of the earth Have those b til I'd voices lifted from the dust! And now to end their almost Heavenly mirth Beneath a gourmand's orast 2 But as he picks their thin ambrosial throats Will no accusing memories arise, Of grassy globes, and heaven-descending notes, And soul-engulphing skies? "Give me," cries he, "the substance of a thingSomething that I can eat, or drink or feel"— A poem for the money it will bring — Larks for the dainty meal ! Well, he may have his substance, and I mine. Deep in my soul the throbbing larknotes lie ; My substance lasts, and takes a life divine. Hia passes with the pie. — Robert Leighton. SUNSET. A wind-red west, and a burnished sun, Like a chalice of fire in a veil of cloud • A white-winged ship, with its journey done, And a w.avering wake where the path was plowed. An opal sea and a sapphire sky — A pool of red on the western brim — A crimson pool where the day-god bled (The blood of a day that is almost dead), Sinking to sleep in the twilight rim, With the Night's grim hand on its glazy eye — On the opal sea and the sapphire sky. The scent of the orange, the breath of tho rose, Are borne on the vesper breeze, And the spirit of Chloris at twilight goes To gathor her wreath from the flowering trees — The invisible wreath of a perfume, rare, Distilled from the gardens of deathloss bloom — Which always at eve she is wont to lay On the blood -bathed hi east of tho dying day, Ere the shadows of Night may its eoul entomb, A wreath that she weaves of the fragrant air — Of the roses and lilies that 'blossom there. And so, in the glow of an opal sea, Where the white gulls dip in the crystal epray, The sun goes out in eternity, J Aud the moon a&cends like the ghost I of Day, With the astral hosts of a cloudless sky Which shine like eyes from an occult sphere ; And tho mockers sing through the long night hours Of the sweet perfume and the wondrous flowere — Of the Day that's gone and the Day that's near — The mockers sing, and the zephyrs sigh, And the world seems sad till the light goes by. • / — T. Shelley Suttori. EVENING REVERIES. The eombre eventide unfolds ; And glides the day o'er the unknown Lethean sea, whose vastness holds "The phantom ships of centuriea flown. The days departed oft frequent Lone avenues of reverie ; Those faded hours waft, redolent. The breath of fragrant memory. The insight of the quiet hours, The dimness of the past illumes; In those aloof and shadowy bowera, With loved and lost the eoul communes. The fallen rose with dust is blent, 1 Its perfume lingers in decay ; Thus memory's tender scenes presents The sweetness of the vanished day. — Amelia Robbins. Springfield Republican.

■" Sickness causes a loss of both time and money. You lose the time and have the expense of medical attendance, entailing a double loss. This can be avoided b,^ using some reliable remedy at the first stage of the sickness. The purchase of a bottle of Chamberlain's Colic, Cholera, and Diarrhoea Remedy often proves a profitable investment, for, by its use at the first appearance, any unusual looseness of the bowels, a severe attack of diarrhoea or dysentery may be averted, that might otherwise compel a week's cessation from labour. Every household should have a bottle at hand. It. never fails, and is pleasant to take. Get it to-day. It may gave a life. — Advt.