AT THE SIGN OF THE LYRE

New Zealand Mail, Issue 1536, 7 August 1901, Page 21

AT THE SIGN OF THE LYRE

A SONNET OF HOPE.

Through many devious ways of false delight— Through darksome regions of despair and doubt— The soul must wander ere the sun. shines out And the true Eden bursts upon the sight. - * - -

So thou, encircled by despair's black night, Hope against hope, the powesn» ejf evil flout, Persist and conquer them, arifns and shout Triumphantly; for certain comes the light.

Hope from the jaws of death pure joy can wrest— Can ease the heart with heaviness fullfraught, ... And crown with bliss a seeming hopeless quest;

Behold! for years in vain her lov«/Y sought— Yet she last night her love for me con’ fessed In words that love alone her heart had taught 1

—J.S.K., Christchurch,

TWILIGHT MEMORIES.

Twilight shadows softly gather As I sit at close of day, And the faintly flickering firelight Paints me scenes long passed away.

Now, again in fancy dreaming Visions sweet of girlhood rise, Forms of those long gone to Heaven, Greet me with a glad surprise.

Merry boys and beauteous maidens. Friends of girhood's golden day, I little thought that I’d be living After they had passed away.

One there was above all others. Stands he nearest unto me; Unto him my youth was given— Sacred still his memory.

Twenty years we spent together. All too swift the time sped on; Golden days of joy and beauty; Days that never can return.

Twenty years! No words can All the grief that filled my breast. When they bore my darling from m®. Laid him gently down to rest.

'Twill not be long before I join him, I grow weaker day by day; Soon I'll hear the Master calling "Wait no longer, come away."

Then for ever, sweetly resting, All my sorrow will be o’er; When all those I loved in girlhood Greet me on the golden shore. —A. G. Oliver, Taneru, near Mastertoa.

CHEAP-

(N.B. —This is ironical!)

It's ne'er guid tae spend a shullin* If eleven pence will dae. And he's just a fule that's wullia* Tae lack profit he can has! Aye buy cheap, '' Aye sell dear. And ye'll reap Fortune here!

If ye offer sacrifices (Yielding, maybe, cent, per cent) Ye'll get croods tae tak’ your prizes •Though the trick micht be weel Aye buy cheap, etc.

If ye ken whaur there's guid Gospel At twa hunner pounds a year Why pay double for it? Please tell. For tae my mind that's no clear! Aye buy cheap, etc.

If five pounds convert a nigger There’s nae need for spending tea* Aye fin’ oot the lowest figure Baith for them and souls o' men* Aye buy cheap, etc.

Wi’ your motto, “Aye buy cheaply/* Selling dearest a' the while, Ye may lee baith oft and deeply. But ye'Tl get Guid Fortune’s smile I Aye buy cheap, eto.

And if e’er ye meet anither Muckle like yersel' in't a J Mak' a truce o't! Dinna switherl There are fules eneuch for twa! Aye buy cheap, etc. —W.P.