POETRY OLD AND NEW.

New Zealand Herald, Volume LIII, Issue 16327, 6 September 1916, Page 10

POETRY OLD AND NEW.

A.R.T. (Killed by a Snioer.) How can we mourn or weep for ono so brisrht? Spending himself bo gladly for tho Cause. Shot by a nr.iper'3 bullet in tho night, " Doing his bit" without a backward pause. "I hope to get some sleep to-night," he said: " Nino nights iu this old trench, and it is cold." We think of him as resting, not as dead. One of Christ's warriors, " faithful, true, and bold." How can wo pray for one who gave his all? For "greater love" saitu One—his lifo for • theirs. Ah, he, wo know, has answered to tho Call— We who aro left behind, wo need his prayers. Perhaps thero is some other task that's ours. In meeting, he may turn with his old smiloi " I gave my life that you might finish yours— God grant that Ha may judge it worth the while I -M.P.W.. in the Spectator. ■ THE CHOOSERS. Oh ye! Fragile and tremulous Haunters of tho deep glades! Shall 1 see yo again. Farting tho loaves of beech and aspen Ere yo slip through? Men have said unto mo; These are but flying lights and shadows; Light on the beech boles, clouds shadowing the cornfields; The wind in tho flame of birches in autumn, Wind shadowing tho clear pools. But ye cried, laughing, down tho wind; Mon aro but shadows, but a, vain breath. So, here, comcth unto mo That cry from the rejoicing tin Men are but shadows! And niflfie about me I see them, hushed and sleeping in the hut, M«do solemn and holy by tho night, In the dead light o' tho moon: Shadowy, swathed in their blankets, As sleep in hewn, sepulchral caves, Egypt's and Asia's kings; While between them are tho footsteps Of glittering presences, who say; to, ono To bo a sword upon my thigh! And the sleepers stir restlessly, murmuring, As between them pas.-. The bright-mailed choosers of the dead. Shall I see ye again, oh, flying rout 0' the forest-haunters, whilo I couch silent In a wot brake o' blossom, Dark ivy wreathing your whiteness Ere I am torn from the scabbard? (Lo, one To bo a, sword upon my thigh!) Knowing no longer that earth Lieth in the' dews, shining and sacred. er-FsBPJBIQ MiSmh In tot Spectator,