ORIGINAL VERSE

Hawke's Bay Tribune, Volume XXIII, Issue 105, 15 April 1933, Page 10

ORIGINAL VERSE

OUR VILLAGE (By an Inhabitant.* Our village is not ordinary, In fact it’s quite unique. Another village just liku ours You’d journey tar to seek. It likes to play with new ideas (Sometimes they’re very u.d !> To try its hand at this and that And feel a little bold. There’s every kind of cult and stunt To elevate our minds. And give them poise, and vim and grip, Of all the highest kinds. We study drama, arts and crafts, And philanthropic schemes — Discuss the latest theories On scientific themes. Societies with lengthy names And awe-inspiring views. Find votaries of every age, Who learnedly enthuse. Some seek'descent from Jewish tube*, While others claim to be Re-incarnated folk that died Some thousand years B.C. In diet we have simple tastes, Learn fioui the homely snail That eating tender, leaty thing* No gastric woes entail. In short, we try to find a way To ease man’s troubled lot. Our lives are quite all wrong, they My, So after all, Why not? EASTER-UDE GOOD FRIDAY (By “Jan.”) Another Easter morn has come, and tn our thoughts we see A cross, on which a perfect Man due* die for you and me, And on each side two thieves do hang, death penalty their due, Yet He, that sinless One snows love tor them, and pity too. Some hours do pass, grim darknes* reigns, aiid iu His agony He, like ourselves when sorely tried, cries out in misery: “My God, My God, why hast thou now forsaken Me, Thy Son?” But never once he stoops to flinch from that which must be done. Upon His head, a crown of thorns doth scar H>s sacred brow, Whilst nails do pierce His hands and feet and standing weeping nßtv Beside cross, we see His .Mother, and for her His care, Ere He asks pardon for those men wl>o cruelly put Him there. “’Tis finished,” now His earthly life m death soon passes o’er, Ifae earth doth quake, His side i* pierced, and blood and waie i And loving hands lay in the tomb that sacrifice so dear, which we, at Easter-tide, do keep * mem’ry every year. EASTER-DAY And now the sabbath day is past, and in the early morn. When dawn is breaking in the sky. «• see, sad and forlorn, Mary and Mary Magdalene, with spice* for their Lord, He, who in life was dearly loved, but His cruel death deplored. But now they find, when at the tomb, the stone is rolled away, Where lately, loving hands bad laid • King of mortal clay, And in His place, two angels sit, wher* head and feet had been, Whilst close beside, some linen cloth* are all that cau be seen. One Mary broken-hearted, like us alt, whom death has trievl. At first could only see the tomb. 10l love had not espied. That He, unknown to her. was there, and had but gone away To rise triumphant over death, ai’d o'er the world hold sway. But soon her eyes are opened wide, she sees and hears Him call, And we, like her at Eastcr-tide rejoice, each' one and all. For He has mingled hie wiui death, and taught us now to see, That death is but a passing heut'e to rich eternity.