Some Poems.

New Zealand Times, Volume XLIX, Issue 11305, 2 September 1922, Page 10

Some Poems.

Original and Selected.

SYMBOLS. Listening to the voice of waves Plashinc in and out of caves. Said the voice, triumphantly—- “ King Lear's passion lives in me.” And the winds, with many a mouth. Whispered north and whispered south—“We are messengers that form Macbeth’s fury, Shylock's storm.” At the sun’s declining hour Looked I on a- pansy-flower; And the face within it set Was the face of Juliet. And a poppy just beside , To my dreaming senses cried—“l contain the venomed draught Which the Queen of Denmark quaffed.” Then ,a rose, as red as life—“l am frail Othello's wife”; And a lark that warbled long—- “ This is mad Ophelia's song.” c And a tumbling torrent said—''Headlong Hotspur is not dead;” And the braying of an ass—- “ Gentle Bottom shall not pass.” Stately oaks led me to know—- “ Ours the strength of Prospero.” Bubbles dancing down a stream—"We are merry Touchstone’s dream." Magpies,, chattering since their birth—- “ Ours is* Gratiano's mirth;" Rustling leaves that whispered low—- " Such were sighs of Romeo." Listening still, as night came on, -And the dusk with soft stats shone, Lo! an owlet flitting near—“l re-echo Caesar's fear." And the dusky Queen of Night, Rustling through the infinite, Like a shadowy eidolon—"Cleopatra hag not gone.” Glooms that glanced in shadows dark. Crept and, creeping, murmured—" Hark! "Hamlet's living in the shade By these melancholies made.” —LOUIS H. VICTORY. LOVE'S PILGRIMAGE. My thoughts turn back to where the paths divide me, r From home and friends and all I held so dear,. To where Love beckoned me with trembling fingers Along the stony road beset with fear But. still Love drew me on through thorns and briars, With weary feet I struggled on and on. Till' years have passed before I reached . the summit To find Love stripped, ' and all the ’ beauty*'gene.” ' • ' So sweet, so fair, so wondrous the illu- , sion! To lift a 60ul above all earthly ills; So mighty is the power of Love in making * A human heart to follow where it wills; So humble all the sacrifices given— For so the greater love demands them all— Till shrinking ot his shrine, half dead, and wounded, Orio-eebms’ to- hear his agonising call. 0“ «■'* AMY-E. LINK. IN A GARDEN. ’Tis eventide, my busy day has passed, And for a' bright, brief spell can 1 relax, And to my perfect garden wend my way. :The strain and hurry of the working day ' I leave behind me, for a time of peace; And in this different atmosphere ot . . llowers— Of .'.varied* perfumes, and of sunset dreams— My stifled' love of 'beauty and. romance Can have fnil .play; and in this world of joy I’ll breathe now life, and think of distant friends Who wish me well, whatever Fate beI tide. . LAURA JEAN VICTORY.

GARDEN OF REGRET. (By A. M. Bowyer Rosman.) This is the garden of 013 Regret, Where my Lady walked in the long ago. And her fair face shone like a jewel set ’Twixt the branches high and the blossoms low. Here are walks, moss-grown and shady. Flecked with gold where the sun peers down, Stately hollyhocks, like my Lady, Velvet sunflowers, yellow and brown. Snowy lilies, tall and saintly, The wall with its starry jasmine flowers, And the dial with its legend carven quaintly—'T number only the sunny hours." High in the gums The chafer thrumming His monotone to the drowsy day, And the song of the wild bee, humming, humming. As honey-laden he flits away. Bright days ibnrgeon in splendour golden, Scented noontides, and dewy eves. But silence is here in the garden olden, Silence and I, and my .heart that grieves. For the spell of memory strong and stronger Thrills, enthralls me and holds me yet, But my Lady walks in its ways no longer— ) This is the garden of Old Regret. A TAY BALLAD. The song of the waves' rose high. The 6ong of the waves sank low, And on thro’ the mist came the seabirds’ cry, As they floated and dipped and rose to fly, Or wheeled in circles beneath the sky. Round the shores of Bonnie Dundee. Tho song of the waves rose high, The song of the waves sank low, As the fishermen-.left tbe sunset strand, And skilfully' cleared the banks of . sand That fie concealed ’twixt land and land In the Tay at Bonnie Dundee. The song of the waves rose high, The 60ng of tho waves sank low, As the fisherman hauled his nets aboard And mentally counted tho Golden hoard That would soon be'his, as his just reward. For his toil at Bonnie Dundee. i The 1 sotig'of the waves rose high, 1 The sdng of ',’the :*Vi?«Veß'sank low, And: on thro’ the mist came the blinding sleot, Ripping and tearing tbe topsail sheet, . The tempest tossing that craft so neat To its doom at Bonnie Dundee. The song of the waves rose high, • The song of the waves sank low. No more would the'fisherman haste to ' greet The bonniest'' "wife" of the fishing fleet, ' ■ Nomote"would "lio : sail the waters sweet ■Of ■ the-Tay afr.Bonnie .-Dundee. ~ LAURA JEAN VICTORY. SOUL OF THE UNIVERSE. GRANT TO US LOVE I , Soul of the universe, grant to u B love! From thy vast stores of wealth; gift I from above! Into our hungry hearts give to our need ' We’ll follow gladly then where thou . dost lead. _ ■„ ~ . Those who abuse thy gift, scatter them wide, All love’s most precious pearls from sin . divide. From, every selfish aim may our thoughts rise. Then we will find at last our Paradise. AMY R. LINK.