CREEDS

Hawera & Normanby Star, Volume LXV, Issue LXV, 20 December 1913, Page 9

CREEDS

Friend, you are grieved that I should Unhoused, unsheltered, gaunt, and My cloak for shelter—for my tent The roadside tree; And I—l know not how you bear j A roof betwixt you and the blue.' Brother, the creed would stifle me That shelters you.

Tet that same light that floods at dawn Your cloistered room, your cryptic stair, Wakes me, too —sleeping by the hedge— To morn in.l? nraver.' —Charlotte Wilson, in the Outlook.