AT THE SIGN OF THE LYRE.

New Zealand Mail, Issue 1315, 13 May 1897, Page 16

AT THE SIGN OF THE LYRE.

ORIGINAL VERSE. OUR SHIP, ('Written for the New Zealand Mail.) [By Gertrude Moore.] * A forest of masts and spars, tall chimneys, smoke wreaths, ropes and bunting. The ring of the blows on iron, the dull . wooden thud of the caulking. At length the work is complete, and a motley crowd has assembled: Fair women, and children of toil, cultured men, and the daughters of labour. “ She moves ! —She moves ! ” is the cry,— and into the sea glides the vessel: — A beautiful thing indeed, tlio product of thought, work and patience. A day of cold wind and rain, far out in the stream lies our vessel; Battered and worn is she now, by stress of much going and coming. Much joy and pain has she seen, many meetings, —but oh, far more partings ; Much laughter and tears and sight, much singing and playing, and crying, Many friendships true has she held, many courtships sweet gently fostered, Much envy and hatred bred; a small world in herself she has been. It passes as all things pass ; silent now are her decks and her gangways : Gone for aye is the awning's shade, panelled walls, rooms of state and gay trappings ; Gone, too, is the hurricane deck, in vain shall we seek for the cuddy. Her cargo consists now of coal, grime and dust penetrate every corner, Harsh words, much coarseness or worse —echo now through the ship memory laden. Faithful still to the mind of man, she fulfils the work she is set to. A terrible night at sea, the tearing and bursting of iron; A few half-uttered farewells, or may be much swearing and praying ; Matters it much how it be ? “ Components are doomed to destruction.” * Twas thus taught the sages of yore ; be it man, shipping, world or star-cluster. Or it may be the f * breaker ” buys —in the harbour, her voyages ended— Whatever may yet remain of true timbers, strong plates or old engines.

Well, such is the life of man, and as true, let us hope, to its purpose. Ponder the life of a ship, let the man at the wheel be her conscience : Still higher the captain stands, and these threo are 'well knit together, Mind, body and conscience we, may we see welL this type’s equilibrium: Life is as cruel as the sea; its storms, calms and changes are endless. May we all have the strength to be like good ships to the end of our journey. A DREAM OF NEW ZEALAND. [By F. Scobie.'] I looked far back into the past, far, far over the sea, The sunny and the silent climes That long had ceased to be for me. The mighty Rimutaka in all its might Came in my visions in the night, Whilst Native dance and song awoke around The echo of the “ coo ey ” sound. For from the coll -ge from afar, My daughter alone was home returning With honours held in either hand, Wo.n, and won well at seats of learning. The scene is changed, and by the bank W horn's >ff. iho sunlight gleams, A !i .and macum s:t am! t-ig I ', And dream some g >’.dcn dreams. How quickly then the lime Sped on, unnumbered in their past, Till darkness mantles o’er the sun, And day fades into night. I next stand by the minster pile Where marriage bells are ringing. The sun is shining bright the while And every bird is singing. Next up the churchyard path I see, There comes with stately stride, A man that passes through the porch And claims my love his bride. And thus she sacrificed her love To duty’s sacred call, To save a father’s honoured name She gave up all and all. Yes, she gave up all that life held dear, And all that memory cherished, Love, Hope, and Joy for her With the bright past have per-shed. The past is vanquished and has gone, Alone on Life’s wild rough sea My craft is drifting on the rocks. Of things not meant to be. We must take things as we find them, They will not appear as they seem. They may have ends assigned them Of which we little dream.

SELECTED VERSE . , THE QUESTIONER. •o[By William Watson,] I asked of heaven, and earth and sea, Saying, “ O wondrous trinity, Deign to make answer unto me, And tell me truly what ye be.” And they made answer, “ Verily, 1 he mask before His face are We, Because 1 tis writ no man can see • Hia face and live —so spake the three, Then I: “ O wondrous trinity, A mask is but a mockery— Make answer yet again to me And tell if aught beside are ye.” And they made answer, “ Verily, The robe around His form are we, That sick and sore mortality May touch its hem and healed be.” Then I: O wondrous t inity, Vouchsafe once more to answer me, And tell me truly, what is He Whose very mask and raiment ye ?” But they replied i “ Of time are we, And of Eternity is He. Wait then dnd ask Eternity ; Belike his mouth shall answer thee,” —Pall Mall Gazette.