TO HER MEMORY.

Greymouth Evening Star, 28 September 1917, Page 7

TO HER MEMORY.

We met, and the spark of the ages, The love light that beamed in her eye Have token of truth, and devotion, And honour that never could die. 1 talked of Hie land I had roamed in, Midst southern seas o’er the foam, And hoped there with some one to share it, To carve out and build a new home. And in spite of high hopes for the future, Of Fortune’s bright smiles, or her frown ; Her hand fluttered and pressed mine so gently, 0 yes, 1 am ready, I’ll come. We left all that was clear in the homeland, And voyaged out far o’er the main, . And i nspite of high hopes for the future. She never set foot there again. She lies where the southern ocean Moans it dirge as it laps the sea foam. But her spirit invites me to join her;When the pilot calls, darling, I’ll come. The withering creeds of the ages Have darkened onr view o’er the tide : While our loved ones would talk with us gladly And guide us safe o’er the Divide. Our soldiers have tdld us of legions Who hover around them just where Their comrades have suddenly left them, To begin a new life over there. SOLEMN THOUGHTS.