AT THE SIGN OF THE LYRE.

New Zealand Mail, Issue 1263, 14 May 1896, Page 18

AT THE SIGN OF THE LYRE.

ORIGINAL VERSE,

TOO LATE. (Written for the Neie Zealand Mail.J Sombrely foil the shades of night Over the snowy land ; Shedding subdued her silveiy light, The moon rose o'er the strand. Homeless, penniless, hungry, sad, Crouching side by side, Mother and child so poorly clad, Gazod on the flowing tido. " Mother !" the voice was woak aud faint, " Mother, oh give me bread ! I am so hungry !" Who can paint Her anguish as she said—- " Poor little one !" and gently drew Him closer to her breast, " Don't cry, my child !" for well she knew Death soon would give them rest. One passing heard that bitter wail, And saw the mournful two Shivering beneath tho chilly gale lhat coldly by them flow. One last attempt tho mother made—- " Oh, help us, sir!" she cried, "My child is dying !" "I don't give To beggars !" he replied. But as ho hastened on his way Into his heart was brought The memory of a wifo and child Long lost, long vainly sought. For ho had been a sailor once, Tho ship was wrecked, and ho Was carried to a distant land Whonco he returned to seo His homo destroyed, his wife and child Upon tho cold world tossed ; Ho sought them vainly, almost wild With grief—all trace was lost! Four years had passed away since then, And hope was long since dead ; But those two beggars smote tho chord Of memory, so he said—- " To-morrow, as I pass that way, If they should still be there, For thy dear sake, my long-lost wifo, I'll feed that hungry pair." To-morrow came. Alas ! too late His charity he gave— For they whom now he sought to help Were past his power to save ; For Death had heard the hitter cry That rent that mother's breast, And, kinder than earth's charity, Had taken thom to rest! The wintry sun rose pale and cold Upon tho frozen earth, Afraid to cast a gaze too bold Upon tho face of Death. Two rigid figures calmly lay Upon the frosty ground - Not colder than the poor cold clay Whose rest at last was found. Tim pure, pale petals of the sky Fell softly from the clouds ; So.i o lingered as they Hon tod by And wove the paupers' shrouds. The sailor hastened to tho spot. A crowd had gathered nigh ; But no one recognised the two Left there alone to die. One glance, then with a bitter fry He sank besido the dead - " Oh, that I should have passed you by And e'en refused you bread !" For now ho knew that pallid face, Though changed from when in life, And had denied his charity Unto his long-lost wife. Oh, never empty lot depart The poor ones of the Lord! For had he hardened not his heart Great had bean his reward ! Let not what best were done to-day Until to-morrow wait; Tho need for it may pass away, And thou inay'st come—too lato !■ Frances M. Fames. Waipawa.