POETRY OLD AND NEW.

New Zealand Herald, Volume LI, Issue 15554, 11 March 1914, Page 12

POETRY OLD AND NEW.

MARTIN O'SHEA. Mabtin O'Shea with his heart on his sleeve Watches the swallows fly under the eave; Whistles while counting them, smiles at his whim. But what are the swallows at twilight to him Martin O'Shea with a straw in his mouth Watches the gathering clouds in the south; Smiles at the sky and the darkening day, But what is the weather to Martin O'Shea? What's nature to him, whether happy or vexed. But a recess between the last girl and the next? They welcome him gladly; he leaves them with glee— . , r • . But what under heaven is Martin to mo? —Louis How. THE WHISPERED WORD. O unforgotten day, return! Bring back thine opal skies. And far-sown dews that wink and burn Where morning's magic lies On grassy slopes and meadows pied With slender bluets starry-eyed. For there, bl waters slipping down Past coverts cool and green, 'Mid birchen shoots and thickets brown. With sunny isles between, ... Sweeter than whitothroat's strain, I heard The music 01 a whispered word. And suddenly the world was bright With bloom, and pulsing wings. All blue and gold, flashed through the light. While tender growing things, i From moist dim nook and leafy tent, The fresh wild breath of spring outsent. Still in the old loved haunt I dream; Hushed are the ritournels Of mating birds, and the choked stream Muffles its silver bells; Yet all my soul to song is stirred By memory of that whispered word. J. B. Kenton. THE HARBOUR MOTHER. The little boats from the ocean glide, Hurrying home with the eventide For shelter and rest To the peaceful breast Of the harbour-mother, whoso arms stretch wide. As she quiets each quivering, weary wing. This is the song that I hear her sing. While the stars hang low, And the night-winds blow, And strong and silent the slow tides swing. " Best, little boats, through the deepening night— .... . , . , Rest till the smile of the sun is bright; Then away and away Through the long fair day; Nothing shall hinder your eager flight. " Sleep now, and rest; For that is best, , And calm and safe is the harbour-breast. —Grace Goodwin. INOIPIT. I looked for a drug and I found a draft Of water that made me whole: And the cup is full out of which I quaffed The health of my inmost soul. I sought for a gem and discerned a star: For an inn and I found a home Whore waking is better than visions are And loneliness cannot come. I looked for a solace and gained a bliss. For a lie. and I found it true,— For I found affection within a kiss. And behind an appearance, youl —Louis How.