FRAGRANT YET.

Hawke's Bay Tribune, Volume XVI, Issue 162, 26 June 1926, Page 9

FRAGRANT YET.

It was not marked in every line With rows of shrubs or hedge of box; Its colours followed no designs, Its gate had neither latcii nor locks; But it was full of hollyhocks And marigold and mignonette, Sweet-rocket, bergamot and phlox— The garden that is fragrant yet! Northward, a row of sine’ding pines Grew lonesome in the lichened rocks And there the spicy pinks were set vine And jungle-growth of weeds and dock But there began the four-o’clocks, And there he spicy pinks were r>et That made, with sage and ladysmock The garden that is fragrant yet. And candytuft and columbines Grew yearly from their parent stocks Undying fires on rustic shrines, Unfed, unqucnched by winter shocks. Peonies, flaunting flaming frocks And velvet pansies, black as jet, Ruled, amid broken shards and crocks The garden that is fragrant yet. L’Envoi It’s covered now by city blocks Too deep for knowledge or regret But memory, that vainly mocks The garden—that is fragrant yet! ’ —Edwin Meade Robinson. Tn “The Book of th c Rhymers’ Club.” * * ♦ * GOOD NEIGHBOURS. Many a man hath gold to guard And house to keep him warm, And ale to drink and bread to eat And strong and ready arm; But many a man vlien time is come To rest him from his labours Hath not so rich a store as I Who boast me of good neighbours. There’s many a lad would scale the hills And sail the fickle ocean, And touching keels at every quay Live ever in commotion. But what a man may buy wifh sweat Or carv c with hearty sabre He may not own so sure as I Who’ have a jovial neighbour. Oh. some- would cram a granary With oats and corn and barley, And scire would dance a round or two With even’ fiddling Charlie. 1 like th P time when malt B ripe Ami .T«-nnv bring- the tabors, B it mo>i !y 1 like every day Because 1 have good neighbours. .. v. ’■ . ; : i- in the ‘ * Outlook ’ ’ .