POETRY OLD AND NEW.

New Zealand Herald, Volume XLVIII, Issue 14808, 11 October 1911, Page 10

POETRY OLD AND NEW.

. LOVE CAME TO ME. Love came to me when I was young; Ho brought me songs, he brought me flowers. Lovo wooed me lightly, trees among, And dallied under scented lowers; And loud ho carolled, "Lore is king 1" For he was riotous as ppring, And careless of the hour?. When I was young. Lovo lingered near when I grew old; Ho brought mo light from stars above, And. consolations manifold; He fluted to me live a dove, And love leaned out of Paradise, And gently kissed my faded eyes, And whispered, * God ii Love," When I grew old. —Frajtcis HOWAIID Williams. THE FIRST FLOWERS. For ages on our river borders, These tassels in their tawny bloom, And willowy studs of downy silver. Have prophesied of spring: to come. For ages have the unbound waters Smiled on them from thoir nebbly hem, And the clear carol of the robin And song of bluebird welcomed them. But never yet from smiling rier, Or song of early <ird, have they - Been greeted with a gladder welcome Than whispers from my heart to-day. They break the spell of cold and darkness, The weary watch of sleepless pain, And from my heart as from the river. The ice of winter melt 3 again. . WHITTIEB.

A SADDLE SONG. Long years from now when the autumn weather Shall tingle our. blood, grown slow and cold, I think that the rides we have had together Will still delight us, though gray and old. Then perhaps on a day you will open the covers Of some small book, and a hazard line That tells of the rides of friends or lovers Will sing of the rides that were yours and mine. Again, while the sharp rain cuts without Pity, > We'll gallop again from the distant hill We'll watch the stars and the lights of the city Gleam out of the twilight, misty and still; Again to the creak of saddle-leather We'll climo the slope where the violets grow Or, low to the pommels, dash together Under the apple-blossom snow. Then here's good luck to the rollicking 'chorus " Of a horse's hoofs as they beat the ground. .' " . And may there be many a mile before us When our hearts shall keep time to the musical sound. MABI BAYiIOUD SffIUPMAJ* AMDEEWB.