POETRY, OLD AND NEW.

New Zealand Herald, Volume LIII, Issue 16375, 1 November 1916, Page 10

POETRY, OLD AND NEW.

WHEN IT'S OVER. Me ajid Bill and Gineer Sailed away to Fra-c.ce; Said good-bye to Farvcr. Landed back at Harver; Didn't have no (banco To parlez-vouz at Ilarvcr or go upon tho apree. But started tounnsr Flanders— Ginger, Bill, and me. Since that time wove, travelled— Gmg •. me, and BillSeen what's left of Wipers, Dodjed the German snipers Under Vinay hill. Rested in toe valley ▼.here Somrue goes out to sea. And strafed the Boche at Montaubaa— Ginger. Bill, and me. When the war is over, When wore done with gun#. We three means to go, Sir. Where we do not know, sir, But far from any Huns, And run a farm or something as cosy as could be. And no more France or Flanders For Ginger Bill.'and me! This poem was awarded the prise ia a competition in the Saturday Westminster. It ia signed " Ktien" who is with the BritisH Forces in France. TO A SOLDIER IN HOSPITAL. Courage came to you with your boyhood's grace Of ardent life and limb. Each day new dangers steeled you to the test. To ride, to cli«ib, to swim. Your hot blood Taught you carelessness of death With ©very breath. So when yon wont to play another game You could not but be brave: ' An Empire a team, a rougher football field. The end—perhaps your grave. What matter? On the winning of a goal You staked your soul. Teg, you wore courage as you wore your youth With carelessness and joy. "t. in what Spartan school of discipline Did you got patience, boy ? Hew dd you learn to bear this long-drawn pain And not complain? Restless with throbbing hopes with thwarted aims, Impulsive as a colt, How do you ho hero month by weary month Helpless and not revolt? What joy can these monotonous days afford Here in a ward ? Yet you are merry as the birds in spring, Or feign the gaiety. b Lest those who dress and tend your wound each day «■»-»• Should guess the agony. Lost they should suffer—this the only fear Yon let draw near. Greybeard philosophy has sought in books And argum-mt this truth, That, man i* greater than his nain. but you Have learnt it m yotir youth. You know the wisdom taught by Calvary At twenty-three. Death would have found you brave, but braver still You face each lagging day A merry Stoic, patient, chivalrous, Divinely kind and Kay. You bear your knowledge lightly graduate Of unkind Fate. Careless philosopher the first to laugh The latest to complain. Unmindful that you teach, you taught me ". this In your long fiirht with pain: Since God made man so good—here stands my creed— God's good indeed.

—W. U. Letts. in the Spectator, J