SELECTED VERSE

Hawera Star, Volume XLVI, 6 November 1926, Page 18

SELECTED VERSE

STEPHEN’S GREEN (DUBLIN)

That God once loved a garden We learn in Holy Writ, . And seeing gardens in the Spring 1 well can credit it. But ii God walks in Dublin, i: think that He’cl be seen Paein* r up and down the paths That lead through Stephen’s Green

From tenement and basement, From evil court and slum, In broken boots and tattered skirts You’ll see the children come. For them the unforbidden grass, The, happy water’s sheen, The flowered shrubs, the tulips pride, The peace of Stephen’s Green.

They scamper and they tumble, They wander hand in hand; Watchino- the clamorous waterfowl Entranced the children stand. So poor you are or weary. So dowdv or eo mean, You’ll find a bench and welcome Each day in Stephen s Green.

And so I should not wonder Nor hold the tale Untrue ' That God has often walked theie In robe of skiey blue. Among the little children SfeS n t t h“marX>ve tho poor Tl,o draco of Stoph«.’sGr«r, L

■ V MAGIC ROADS. Now, every wad is paved, with, jo\ . The white road past the hill. The red curves of the bushlarrd t|rack That, wanders by the mill; And the dim path that calls to roe— The little road beside the sead The road that loops the far blue hill - Lies flecked with sun and. shade. With isnowy orheards all about. And little flowers inlaid, And past each tiny, .sleepy town Goes dreaming up and dreaming down . The red road through the lonely bush Lies deep in fronded fern With silver-sparkling waterfalls. And pools at every turn And here the ringing axe is heard Above the song of every bird. The road that runs beside the sea ,hs white with drifted sand. And) duskv aisles, of tea-tree sterns With starry wreaths are spanned. There is no .sound through all the day Brit waters murmuring far away Now every road is paved with, jov . Which road then shall it be. The highway or the buslancl track— The road beside the sea? ‘ l ea-re not. for my heart- ehial.l know Riant, beauty wheresoe’er I go_p Mann, in the Australasian. OLD FRIENDS. Old friends are true friends; .Sunshine in the sky , Has kept us warm and fought tne storm Through ages long gone by.

Sometimes the new friends Leave the heart aglow, But it’s when they’re like the men We cherished long ago. FORTUNE. If I should go to London to seek my fortune there, , Maybe I should find it, but who-d bo * there to care? . I’d better bide at home until fortune conies my way, For tho grand road to London makes weary feet, they say. I’d better bide at home, where I m friends with country things — The silence of the moor and the whirr of startled wings; The heather and the pines, and the low moon of gold, And a warm peat fire when the nights are growing cold. Oh, if I were in London, it would ’ break the heart of me That spring should come and summer, and myself not here to see; And well I know when autumn came to turn the bracken brovrn, I’d hear the heather calling me to come away from town. Sure, I might‘.follow fortune all round the world and back, But I’d see the curl of blue from my cottage chimney stack; And what would I find better, though I sought it far and wide, Than the bonny dancing light of my own fireside? MASQUERADE. Dawn came down the star-strewn way, In mask and domino of grey; A most demure and Quaker day— Cold, unbeguiling. I marvelled as I watched her there, What folly ever named her fair, She, with her dour, forbidding air, Prim and unssmiling. But even as I watched her, lo! Down dropped her mask and domino. 0, golden hair! 0, face aglow! O, youth unfading! O, rosy mouth, with laughter set! (), roguish eyes oi violet! How could I guess the sweet coquette Was masquerading! W.D.F.