ESSAYS IN VERSE.

Evening Post, Volume LXXX, Issue 62, 10 September 1910, Page 13

ESSAYS IN VERSE.

ARCADY UNHEEDING. Shepherds, go whistling on their way In tho spring season of the year ; One watches \\ cathor-signs of day j Ono of his maid most dear Dreams — and they do not h^r Tho birds that sing and fiing ; they do not see Blue distances beyond their windy lea, Nor blossoms red and white on every tree., -S.S. Westminster Gazette. SLEEP, THE PEDLAR. Down through the Market Place of Night came Pedlar Sleep, Clad in a ragged dusk, about whosa scams Full many restless sigh 9in tatters hung, Whilo all hia wares were dreams. And dreams he had, gay seamed with gold love threads Wild dreams embossed with tremblings and with fears, And some were sadly patterned out in grey, Embroidered round with tears. But one dream lay apart from all the rest, Having no happy stars its dark to press; ; Upon it some strange hand had wrought thoso words, "I am Forgetfulness." Proud kings beneath their tyranny of gems Stepped down to buy gay dreams of red and blue, Said queens, from out their purple, "Pedlar Sleep, We would your dreams were true." And maids, all slimly white, leaned swift and cried, ] From the dim line of balconies above, "Shame, Pedlar Sleep, to weigh your pack down With any dreanis save Love." Each bought and paid. The kings in weighty power, The queens with stately heart-breaks and distress, Maids with their doubts, till all the dreams were gone. All — save Forgetfulness. Then Pedlar Sleep loud cried, ''There ! still remains The best of all that which can make amends For snarling wrongs, for cold and lovelesa lips, And even faithless friends." — Archibald Sullivan. I The Academy. ! BUCOLIC. Where shall wo wish to go, when we die? Where a red-tiled roof climbs a pale, mild sky From over a whitewashed, sun-baked wall. In the eaves, beas buzz in a cobweb . . . fall On the cobbles, where stray straws gleam, all gold. Geraniums glow in the curtain's fold, Between shutters, green as the water-butt Below, on the flags, where pigeons strut. An old dog blinks at a fly on his nose. Tho hollyhocks caught in a full-bloom rose. On the bench, by the poroh, here's some ono set A blue bowl of stocks and mignonette. ' Open wide swings the garden gate On the green, with the poplars, tall and strait; The idle breeze that rattles the latch Brings scents of tho orchard, and lavender patch. . . Of gorso, from tho field where thistledowns fly, Where a cow and donkey keep company. The children swing on a plank and scream, The pony stands knee-deep in the'strcam. Out of the pool wade ducks, with a splash, Some one sings, as ehe hangs out the Wash, Somebody gossips ovor his beer. The hills trend off to the sea, quite near. Thero would I float, a mote, in the aun Of an afternoon, that ia just begun! —The .Nation.