ESSAYS IN VERSE.

Evening Post, Volume LXXVIII, Issue 9, 10 July 1909, Page 13

ESSAYS IN VERSE.

OLD MAN FROST. , Old Man Frost is come again To fleck and peck at the window-pane! When you hear a sound like a blade of wheat Snapped on the ground beneath your feet, Look vp —and tho hoary beard of grass, That presses close to the wintry glass, That is a sign upon the pane That Old Man Frost is back again, With all tlie fancies you had lost — The refse of spring and tho summer rain, The joy they brought and the pain they cost — Old Man Frost! Old Man Frost, he hangs a mist As cold as the gold and amethyst; He hangs the mist of a hope forlorn On tiro golden moon and the purple thorn; But I never saw in his frozen mane A picture wrought of terror or pain — Only the stars, and castle towers, And fairy gardens of trees and flowers.; And so your dream of love that is crossed With a dread tha^ it may not bloom again, Is only a fancy, like the- frost On the winter window-pane ! —Aloysius Coll. Outing. THE HAWK'S LAMENT. Timo was when we could soar at will O'er field and hedgerow, hill and plain, Thy sky our watch-tower, waiting till Downward we'd 6woop to earth again. And toll we took Is written large in Nature's book. Buzzard and Falcon, Goshawk, Kite, And all the kindred of our race, Shared the inviolable right Of hunting through tho realms of space. Alas ! For us the race is run, Our fate sealed by the Keeper's gun. The pheasant cockets in the copse, An alien from oversea, Tho rabbit steals the farmer's crops. The partridge thrives, from Hungary ! The hawk that stoops at mouse or mole . Must with his life pay instant toll. Are ye so blindly jealous, then, Of our keen efioits in tho chaso, Ye sporting race of Englishmen? Is there tor us in life no place? Time was when Horse and Hound might share With us poor Hawks your bounty rare! —E. Lb Breton-Martin. St. James's Budget. THE PURPOSE. Along life's path tho struggling soul Is whirled, yet dreaming we control The motion and the end; Whereas, as> if in mystic dance, We'ro lost by every wind of chance, Nor know the road -we trend. Yet autumn leaves, though blown about In many a -wild and aimless rout, 'Nealh winter's snow he still; So strug-g-ling souls should surely know, As leaves now still beneath tho snow, i They serve a Master Will. —A. S. Duggan. Pall Mall Magazine. WHEN SHE COMES. My love may come when roses blow Or when tho leaves arc sere; My lovo may come with cheeks aglow Or filled with sudden fear; My love may como with golden hair Or tresses dark as night; No matter when, no matter where, The day will be divinely fair, Tho world euberbly bright. My love may come when I am old Or ore youth's fancies flee; Before this day's last hpur is told My love may como to me; It may be on sotno mountain high Or on Fome placid shore; No matter when or where or why, I'll know her when she comes, as I So often have before. Chicago Record-Herald. "CABINED, CRIBBED, CONFINED." As on a hidden voyage fast confined, A captive in his dungeon hears forlorn Freo winds and waves, and muffled voices borne From fleeting 6hore6 unknown, soon loft behind; And hearing, beats against his narrow walls, And strives to pierce them, that tho moving skies May lay his pafh in light before his eyes: So hears my fettered at intervals. An outer v.orld breathe near, and tries tho bond And compass of her prison, seeking still To force some secret port, from whose wido sill Sho haply might look forth on light beyond And see, for weal or woe, in Truth's pure ra y» The mystery of Life's Voyage wane away. —William Elijah Hunter. "The Nightingale, and Other Poems." LATE DAWN. Dawn in the sky, and stars that tjilent pass, Rose in the distance, light upon the leu, Singing of birds that waken, but alas! No dawn for me. Dawn on tho shore, sweet eyes that Bleep forget, Boat-3 coming homeward o'er the> morning sea, Laughter and happy voices, but as yeh No dawn for me. Dawn in tho world, for all hearts love and light, Ah, but mine eyes no more as yet can see ; When will you come, my love, and turn Life's night To dawn for me? —Clifton BingUam. Lady's Realm WATCHING THE, DAWN. Tho eastern sky is grey above A belt of ghostly while. As, leaning on the sill, I watob Tho coming- of the light. And now the grey is luminous, And now thi? watcher sees Tho dim and ghostly belt become i A row of apple trees. I watch the dawn, and memories Like birds awake and stir With thought of one whoso image draws All lovely things to her. I seem to see, as spreads the light Across the eastern skies, The dawning of a gradual smile In happy hazel eyes. —Florence Mellish. Springfield Republican.

'•Freethought bigotry," according to the Paris correspondent of the Argonaut, lias gone to groat lengths in France, and has become "an intolerance greater than that of the Inquisition." By way of example, he says : "The new and 330 th edition of the famous schoolbook, 'Tour de la France par deux Enfants,' has been so edited that no religious reference, however slight, can be found in it. The names of churches have been removed, and the picture of Rheims Cathedral has been replaced by a map. The names of Fenelon and Bossuet are no longer to be found in the list of great Frenchmen, and even hospitals with religious names are no longer accorded a place in the book." The inevitable reaction, he says, is setting in; and books like those of Rene Bazin are among tho signs. The publishers, of a series of books containing works by Lamb and Dean Farrar have received letters from a press-rutting agency, addressed to "Charles Lamb, Esq.," and "Dean Farrar, Esq." In these the advantages of: tho agency are pointed out, and an offer is made 10 send notices and reviews.