A COURTSHIP. —Desire.—

Otago Witness, Issue 2856, 9 December 1908, Page 87

A COURTSHIP. — Desire. —

Joys come and go ; So, sweetest lady, cherish all the more At thy ambrosial being's inmost core, Love's pure and inextinguishable glow; Yet cherish it for one who will adore Thee with a heart Th«t for the greater part Can comprehend thy nature, and enjoy Thee otherwise than as a slave or toy. For surely thou Art not a maiden, of the gilded kind ; A deeply feeling heart and thoughtful mind Are mirrored in thine eyes and on. thy brow; And it were sacrilege in Fate to bind Thy glowing form And soul that fain would srtorm The heights of glory, to a human mole That grubbed for ever in an earthy hole. So may thine eye With happy inclination lead thy heart To one whose dispositon will not thwatt 'I'hine aspirations, but whose soul will sigh, As thine doth sigh, to act a noble part Upon the stage Of this heroic age ; And not to waste itself upon itself, Or in the acquisition of vile pelf. The dullest note That thcu, indeed, art lovely; bift as one Who hath been roaming, in the burning sun, Through waste and wilderness in lands remote. On coming back to where the waters run Through woody vales Awaft wiva gentle gales Feels as if Paradise were in the place, So do I feel when gazing on thy face. And fain, O fain L Would I, tweary of the wanderer's plight, Within the beautiful and holy light Of. thy dear looks for evermore remain ; For the imperial darkness of the night, The glow of day, And evening's pensive ray, Are blended in thy loveliness; and so •Beyond that loveliness I would not go. — Declaration. — -I have wandered here, I have wandered there. But have met with naught so true and so fair • As- she I love, and who loves me the best : 0 rare, sweet maid with the balmy breast, Even Heaven's own throne were as naught to me, Were its joy and its glory unshared by thee. — Assurance. — The hawthorn blossoms, „ The clover in bloom, How sweet in their beauty, How rich in perfume; Yet. compared to my darling*, Their glory is gloom. As a star is with light, She is radiant with love ; And, while life is within me, And heaven above, Be it mine to adore her And wreathe her with love. Sweet to the mariner, Weary of sea, Is the sight of the land .Looming up to the lee, And sweet to the mother The babe on her knee; But the love of my own lov# Is sweeter to me. As its dell to the deer Is her truth to my heart — There I rest and am happy; And nothing shall part My soul from her sweetness, My heart from her heart. | — Entreaty — ! O what a woman art thou ! Taught and trim, As sailors say, yet with a face so sweet That none could be so happy, none so grim As not to feel its Bweetness. On thy feet How well thou standest; sound in lung and limb, Clear in the eye, in spirit free and fleet ; Handsome and wholesome, neither stout nor slender, And blithe and buxom, yet refined and tender. Thou art the ap-ple of creation's eye, > And fresh as morning- rising from the sea ; No moonish maiden, dwindling to a sigh For that which is not or can never be; But one tq niftke and share a goodly pie, i A wholesome soup, or fragrant frica.-see ; At once the queen of common feeu&e and ; cooks. Of lovingkindness and of lovely lcok«. Not thin© to be for ever str u mm m? at A vile pi? no; neither thin-e to ih'iik To sit for ever v, ith a broidered rn-at Beneath iky feet, and cn!y eat and drink And dress and visit, talking tutle-tai. Amongst the neighbours, nc\er thine to shrink From whatsoever were required to- make The home a haven for affection's sake. | And I shall love thee with my whole heart i love ! For thy sweet self and for thy genial ways ; ShaJl prize thee as a blessing from above,' ! And b^eis thee even to my dying days; 1 will be constant, also as » dove That from its chosen partner never strays ; Faults have I got, but I shall be as true And changeless as the very bluest Live. And so, my bride-to-be, my star of morn, Sweet rose of Sharon, hly of the va ] c, Dear bird of Paradise, my life were lorn Without thy love, so let my love prevail! Come, hesitate no longer! We were born For one another, and we cannot fail To find one another, purely shining, That light of love for which we both are pining. So hither haste, for I am passing weary. And sigh for comradeship like thine, dea*love; Such 'comradeship as k«eps the bosom cheery And warm and sweet, and lifts the soul above The petty things of earth. My dov«, my dearie, I yearn for thee as tne belated dove Yearns for the shelter of its native nest, Wherein alone its vveary wings find rest. — Heart-to-Heart — So felt tile youth, 6 0, too the maiden felt For when he kissed, the kissed li:m back aga..i Then h0,,, [-to be.v „: cl Mju'-ia- e cu', they dvy'.t | For e,.:n:ore _n Ijica en. lie domain.

[ AURORAL LOVE. As spring's sweet magic from the lea Calls forth the flowers to scent the air And drink the sunshine; so from me Thy beauty caUeth out tha rare And glorious blossoms of the heart; And, as the morning to the height, So, dearest, unto me thou art A bringer of celestial light. Still earthly fate between us stands And says our mortal bosoms nay, As much as though a hundred lands And hundred seas between us lay. Yet wherefore ? What is there amiss ? For souls like ours, without disguise, Would sun themselves in boundless bliss Upon the slopes of Paradise. So never mind the modes of men ; They ;annot bar a love like ours, Which, wind-like, cometh how and when It listeth, balmed with Eden'a flowers. O truest love, O sweetest friend, My soul it panteth for thy soui, And in their passion souls may blend Like wild aurorse of the pole. THE HEART'S STORY. The dusk had deepened-^arish d«y had flown ; "■ So forth I fared into the silent night To m? ote **"* treasuj: «s that were all -.her own lh 6 things that ministered to her delight. The sacred silence^of the grass and trees 'I he quietude that brooded all aroundThe happy creatures lying at their ease' Kine in the fields and sheep on higher ground: . The worn-out worker in his bed at rest, The infant sleeping by its mother's side, The birdung sheltered in its parent nest, Were bosomed in the darkness, far and wide. The stars, like souls, were shining in the sky, And now and then the murmur of a. stream Rose on some gentle wind, that glided by As softiy as the spirit of a dream. j Yet there was something wanting, something [ missed, Which caused a void that nothing else could fill, But which was (filled as soon's the full moon kissed In dewy hushfulness the plain and hill. Then rapture free from every base alloy Thrilled through and through the bosom of the night: And night and moon together dwelt in joy Until they vanished; in the morning light. Thus with our own lives is it, nigbt or day; Thougii- rich in treasures, they are ne'er divine, Till love's rare glory comes to fill and sway; At least thus was it, deares-t heart, with mine. Yea ; as the night was ere the moon arose, Such was I till thy beauty dawned on me; And as the night and mooa were to the close, So to the end, mavourneen, may we be! SIMILITUDE. There was an inlet like an inland sea, And it was flanked by many a mighty hill, Here stony bare, there thick with shrub and tree ; And everywhere, save for the wild bird's trill, ihe vagrant wind, the lapping of the wave, Ml was as silent as a new-made grave. -Yo human thing abode in that lone place, And yet of human things it had a share; For of the mystery that haunts man's race, There is a touch in every ■wandering air: The thing tha-t is, unknown, the thing to be, Unappreheuded, trouble land and sea. And so through all the seasons of the year There was a postry in that inlet's life ; It had its times of joyousness •and cheer. It had its times of weariness and strife ; And sunless days and starless nights would throwAll over it a weirdful sense of woe. Forever, ever from the far-off deep There came the immemorial heave and swell That spake of power too measureless to sleep, And stirred its stillness til' the smallest shell And tiniest weedlet on its furthest shore Shared in the pressure that was at its core. Within its depths, some viewless to the ey«, Some clearer than a shining meadow brook, Strange things inhabitated; and yet the sky, And the great wooded mountains, at a look, Saw their immortal beauty there as well, And little recked what else the waves could tell. When winter came with melancholy winds Opprest with mystery, and a sense of grief Bom of the wreck of human hearts and minds Dowered with the genius of the yellow leaf. Something akin to sympathy and grace Appeared to meet it in that lonely place. And yet the stress of mighty storms and tides Routed a responsive vigour in its waves, And torrents tearing down the mountain <-idea. Found in its breast the rest that trouble craves ; i-"or everything that Mature there did do. Was shared by it, and seemed to share it too. In summer, v, lien the cloudless glowing 1 noon Lay broodingly on all the mountains round, The whole vast inlet seemed to melt and swoon In ecstasy, and listen to the sound Of its own stillness, and absorb the day, As thought it could not let it pass away. But when the full moon's beauty touched its face, And lay upon its bosom, like a spell. And mingled with it till it left no trace Of aught else on or in it. who shall tell What arrange immortal niagic o'er it stole Until it feh it-elf a. lnirg soul? Yet so it »s= And so the moonlight blent With all lfb bern? till it tasted all The glory &yd ihe glamour j»nd content That ever, out of Paradise, doth fall To aught that ever, underneath the sky. Doth get and give the love that does not die. All which is true to the minutest part. As known to me and thee an-d God above; For that wild inlet standeth for my heart. And that fair moonlight for thy ove, O love ; So even death shall never disentwme Souls wedded in such wise as thine and mine. i AT A COiiO-XATIOX. ; — A Pocialis* Solus. — | '•Man dc?s noi, lue by biead alone, ■p-e know, But neitheT does he live by empty show: Yet see 'ihi^ tire as! Lo, the king appears, And cou.it less crowds hos*nna him with i heel •» ;>s l.v.ngh he vrcre a man whose splendid ini^ht Had triumphed :n: n a long-continued fight t'cx peace and ju&ticej iiad a settled plac« j

In righteousness for all "the human race. Yet wasted, surely wasted, each huzza, And wasted all the gaping- and the awe, On a mere relique of departed times When kings were useful to repress the crimes Of other scoundrels -with a lust for sway. But less regard for public light than they; But now what axe they? "Figureheads of caste That lingers on although its day is past — Caste, dam of idlers, despicably proud, Yet mere dependants on the moiling exowtl ; Whom take away, and where woujd be the spoil Consumed by such as neither spin nor toil? Yes — where, indeed? And -who, we fain. would know — Who feeds the foois that figure in the show? Who makes the wealth the miserable elves WasteNsn »heir satellites and r>n themselves? The workers, man, the workers — who but they? And every loafer is a beast of prey ! "But come! The crowd — they ha:e the light in tcee ; Ihey go their, ways and are a sigh* to ccc, Noi wotting what they do or where they go, Poor puppets in the world's raree-show, Yet cringing to ■the knaves who pull the strings — Lords, panders, prelates, plutocrats, and kings, The scum and sum of parasitic things: For he who tills the land or leaps the grain, Who mii'ks the cow or drives the loaded wain Tames the wild colt or breed's or shears the sheep, Or builds the ship or works it on the deep, Excels in vital value all the peers And all the monarchs of a million years. "O righteous heaven, hither haste the day When the crowd's blockishness shall pass away ; Sweep, too, away like chaff before the wind Kings and their parasites of every land; ' For of their doings and undoings come The squalid vileness of the city slum, The poverty that keeps the peasant down To brutish 'evels. "Let the courtier frown, The bishop yap, the /hireling writer hiss, The squire, the merchant, swear or shriek at this, Yet it is true — as true as Holy Writ — And they axe damned for ever, judged by itl "So gracious heaven, hasten on the- time When to be rich shall be in a heinous crime, Because- the rich are rich entirely through What other fellow mortals daily do, Or do wil>hout. For by himself alone No living man can win or hold a throne, Or gather goods beyond his daily need, However he way plan or toil or bleed; And all excess in any single hand But means the stint of others in the land. | "So hence with privilege, and hence with caste, And every barbarous relic of , the past. That we may have a world, fair and free, Where 'all shall 1 labour, all shall equal be As sharers in the fruitage of the soil, And all the produce of harmonious toil; , Where all shall live for each, and each for i « n > r. v, And there shall never more be lord or thrall, And none be base enough to be a king, Or such a servile, such a soulless thing As to forget that, ever here below, The peer, the plutocrat, the prince — the show They love to make — can flourish only when They waste the substance of their fellowmen ; Who would be better rotting in their graves Than living as the satellites or slaves Of such preposterous mountebanks jind knaves. "Yet see the thousand-thousands crowding here, And hearken how the silly people cheer The paltry pageant, while across the road The starveling perishes beneath the goad Of hellish" hunger; but of all the band Of flaunting fools not one will move a hand To save him, or to liberate the land From the accursed codas that give us kings And lead to such abominable things As slums and paupers! "Surely, surely, when This is their wont, men are not realiy men, But sensual, soulless, despicable apes That wreak their baseness in our human chapes!" "Enough— too much! Thou foolish, foolish man, „ Dost thou not know that, since the world be^ttn Both crowds and' tyrants have abhorred the tr « th . , ,-l. And love to tear, as with a tiger s tooth, The man who speaks it? So unsay thy say, And let the waywaid people go their way: They hate thee for the very love in thee, And have not eyes to see as thou dost see, Nor wit enough in all their heads to know That they are only puppets in a show Run for the vagabonds who pull the strings — Lords, panders, prelates, plutocrats, and kings, The Ecuin and sum of pa ra 3 itic things! "So come away, and let the whole world weep . , Tn wrack and ruin down perdition a steep, But play no more the petty prating elf, And ii thou must reform— reform thyself: Waste not another word, but turn and go, Though as thou goest thou wilt pause, I know, , . To curse again these showmen and their show." NATURE'S PEACE. O lovely lakes. O mighty hills. Whose beauty haunts, whose vastness thrills, No sordid sorrow carks or kills In your domain; But Nature's peace enfolds and fills The heart and brain. Yet I am. pad , for yonder stone On yonder slope is net more lone Than I, all comradeship unknown; But why repine? Ah, what would thousands give to own. A lot like mine ? So is it here, bo is it there With man. Whatever boons we share, There ever is some mortal care To mock or mar ; And happiness is anj where, But where we are. Nay, this is false; or barely true Of «uch as only think and do For their sole selves, and never kneyf The saving grace _ . Of loving for itself the view Of Nature's face. But. they who carry at the coie The secret of this sacred lore, Where'er they are, the wide world o cr, Are sure to find <. A soul of love in sea and shore And humankind. So lovely lakes, O mighty hills', Whose bsauty haunts, whose vastness thrills, No selfish sorrow earka or kills In your domain; But Nature's peace enfolds and fill* The heart and brainy

A physician who has been investigating the matter says that from the weeds growing in a pool of stagnant water in a pasture he has been x able to develop and cultivate the- genuine tuberculosis germ, and cited the fact as a strong argument in favour of furnishing cows with a supply of pure water. The Tyeev-liner Mimiro, which arrived afc Auckland on Tuesday, Nov. 24-, from London and Australia, passed five icebergr whilst she was crossing- the SoSithern Ocean, in latitude 49deg 50min south nnd longitude 45deg 18min east. The bergs were scattered about at considerable distances from one another.