POETRY IN PERIODICALS.

New Zealand Herald, Volume XLIII, Issue 13262, 22 August 1906, Page 9

POETRY IN PERIODICALS.

THE MIRROR. (Adapted from the Persian of Rumis.) A LOVER Bought his loved one's dwellingplace. I And, all audacious, craved its hidden grace; J Without the rose-wreathed door he, fearless, knocked— Oh, grief! to find the cruel portals locked. Then from within, sweet as the perfumed air. Music's own voice cried: "Who awaits me there?" i Now heed ye well the Lover's bold reply, i "Behold, my rose of Irene, it is I!" i " t!o hence; within my garden rich with 1 bloom. I For Me and Thee besides there is no room." I The Lover left, to meditate apart J The cause and cure of his imperfect heart. I j In great humility he sought once more An entrance at the fair forbidden door; Again the voice of nightingale and lute Cried: " Who comes here, my garden to salute?" The Lover answered, freed from his old self, "I pray thee lift the veil; it is Thyself!" " £inre thou hast learned the human heart to win, j Enter!" replied the voice. "I am within." —Harper's Magazine. | AUSPEX. I My heart. I cannot still it, Nest that had song-birds in it; j And when the last shall go. '1 he dreary days, to till it. Instead of lark or linnet, Shall whirl dead leaves and snow. I Had they been swallows only, i Without the passion stronger | That skyward longs and sings— I Woe's inc. 1 shall be lonely I When I can feel no longer The impatience of their wings! A moment, sweet delusion, Like birds the brown leaves hover; But it will not be long Before their wild contusion Fall wavering down to cover The poet and his song. J. 15. LOWELL,, in T.P.'s Weekly. TO BLOSSOMS. Fair pledges of a fruitful tree. Why do ye fall so fast? Your date is not so past. But you may stay yet here awhila To blush and gently smile, And go at last. What, were ye born to be An hour or hall's delight, And so to bid good-night? "i'was pity Nature brought ye forth Merely to show your worth. And lose you quite. But you are lovely leaves, where we May read how soon things have Their and. though ne'er so brave: And alter they have shown their pride " Like you. awhile, they glide Into the grave. ' .U. -liEKBICK, in T.P.'g Weekly.