OLD WRITERS' COLUMN.
I promised last week that you should have Jessica's better this week; von will And it. below. Jessica takes up the question of . making a collection of D\Lr.F. verse,—a pto- ! ject that naturally appeals to the sympathies of ono who earned the right to be called our " poetess." Her letter has s»et me thinking:; I have asked myself, " Why is our muse sleeping now? Where has she flown?" For you will admit that she hai been very little with us of late. True, she is no longer tempted by the mystery of that elusive i " Dot" who cast such a glamour over the page. But have we nothing else to lure . her with as she passes ua by? Shall we ask her to come and extract for us the ! poetry from the actual? It is there,—oven ! more alluring to trained sympathies than ■ the fascination of the unknown. Now, I | have wandered away from Jessica'3 letter into I a plea for more poetry, which is in no way j antagonistic to her plea that we should j gather the pieces of our old poetry together. I But I must not occupy the stase any longer | when she should be on it, so I let her now j speak for herself. This is her letter:
I Dear Dot and Little Folk.—Of all tho brilliant and original ideas that have been ; conceived and carried out in D.L.F.-dom, ! none 80 charms and captivates the heart of : your devoted chum as the proposal made by, I Dot in her footnote to Lavengro's O.W.W. letter. Her suggestion was that in the near : future we should launch on the waters of ! colonial literature an anthology of D.L.F. | verse. Little Folk, is not this the sweetest , dreani that D.L.F. ever cherished? Shall |we not strive to bring it to pass? Surely we do not aim too high. What does our poet Blondel say?—
; " Hitch your waggon to a star" — Strive for something good and great; Even very little folk May be the fashioners of Fate. They who'd reach the top must climb: Fairest heights are often far; If you would be truly great, " Hitch your wag-gon to a star." How delightful, too, for us to sead oVS
verse-messages out to tHe world, telling what we. have learnt in the mystic by-ways of D.L.F.-land, and in the environment of our beautiful island home. Again to quote Blondel: "We have wandered 'midst sweet clover, We have stooked the golden corn. Marked the ruby tints of evening And the golden beams of morn.
And aoove the grace and grandeu* Of the mount or valley fair We \bave heard the great Creator - Calling our souls to prepare.
' AH these things have made us happy In these islands of the free. And we set our love to music, And we bring our song to thee." Then we have other poets.—Robv, Daisy Primrose, Boy, Harry, Mother's Lass Paparoa, Lavengro, Dum Dum, and others who at one time, or another have composed D.L.F. lyrics. ,Do you. remember, chums. Bluebell's sweet little dedication .to Queen Dot? It started, like this: "Beautiful tresses of golden Jiue, Falling about a brow so fair; Sweet little mouth and dimpled cheeks. As if naught 'but smiles ever lingered there." And Bluebell went from us so early! "Queen Dot" was such a sweetly mysterious subject, and D.L.F. poets and poet-esses were inspired to write thereon. Listen to Roby: *' Over His' host of children fair * God looked and said, ' To-day A queen to love them.—one so rare I'll mould from common clay.'
" Clay oi the purest kind took He, And shaped a queenly form, — Each feature moulded carefully. Till it lacked but colour warm." And so on, telling about each dear feature: " Her lips He gave the rose's red—. Her ears pink of the shell; jler teeth were pearls, for dear God said ' A child's queen must look well.'
/ "God looked upon His handiwork And smiled. 'Sweet queen, thy lot On earth shall be to love child-hearts; Thy name shall be '" Queen Dot." ' " And Dum .Dura: —■
" This mystery Which every day is renewed Stills puzzles the wisest of men. Who, as yet, can only safely conclude She's more than. ' a Dot of the pen.' " Roby's spirit speaks to us somewhat pensively, but wholly brave, in these lines: " But with- youth came ambition, A toy of-wondrous worth, One i that we'd always Cherish, And care for most on earth.
"It brought us this plaything, • And bitter, bitter tears; .- - It's ideal—far off—lofty— We strove for through long years." We shall not lay aside ambition now, shall We, chums, when it is good, and wholesome, and true"?
Then, who does not remember the time when we "dedicated" to one another—while we were " still living and able to appreciate it?" Such poems!—treasured now in loving remembrance of a happy past. Then the blow fell, and our " Dot " was taken from us. Then did we D.L.F. verse-makers lay our tributes' on the grave cf our beloved editor and-Dot; Dear Dot,T am so very much disappointed with myself, because I wanted to> write so enthusiastically, to quote so glibly" from all "our" poets, arid quote the very best pieces. But you can_see what a poor attempt I have made of it, and so I will leave it for Blondel, Boy, and Lavengro, who, by the way, has shown us how capable he is of just this kind of work, I would very much like if Blondel would write and tell us what he thinks of Dot's proposal. Dear Dot, can you forgive me for monopolising so much of your space? And because once the jj.L.F. were kind enough to call me their poetess, I. wish to quote one oi my dedications to you, with just as much meaning and love as I did wheji I -.penned it first: . . TO DEAR DOT. ' . " I know a pair of smiling eyes, . Sweet mirrors of a 'heart that's true;
They beam with love for Little Folk, And they bslonj, dear Dot," to you!
" I know a- smii?, a winning' smile, Like sunshine bright in heaven's blue; About a tender .mouth it plays— And that sweet smile belongs to' ycu!
•" I know a tender, thrilling voice, ."Which thriils with sweetness through and through; - It speaks to us in loving tones, And it is owned, dear Dot, by you! ,
" I know a heart, a loving heart, Whose charm is known to not a few; Sweet glints o' gold it- scatters wide— That heart, dear Dot, belongs to you.
" I know a gladsome lilting song, Its theme, tho' old, is ever new; Its echo reaches all our hearts— And that sweet song is sung by you!
"Dot, you'may think me over-bold; But, tell me, what else could I do, "When fairy" muses bade me make This rhyme, and send it on to you? JESSICA. Tuakitoto, February, 191 D.
The appended short letter from Gravel may also fitly find a place in our Old Writers' column. It was written, you will see, as an open letter to the Invercargill Club, but it is so essentially cheerful and hopeful arid'encouraging that I cannot refrain from publishing it, if only as a revelation of the colour one brave spirit can infuse into life, even when the tendency of that life seems rather of the kind that ex : tracts colour, and leaves dull leaden hues ■where brightness was. There are two beautiful lines from Shelley which are perhaps familiar to you: " Life, like a dome of many-coloured glass, Stains the white radiance of eternity."
Shelley was saying his farewell to thosei colours: I am grateful for the beauty they lend. Here is Gravel's letter that has thus set me thinking of the creation of colour: To the Members of Invercargill It. and D.
My Dear Comrades,—As I had not "thought out a suitable subject to write on for this open meeting of our club, I decided to express the hope that the meeting will be a pleasant and profitable one to all Who are preseit. I will be with you in spirit, though my bodily presence is so far away. Now, dear comrades, I have not been at all faithful to my duties as a. club member of late; I feel so much ashamed of myself as I think what a long time it is sine© I sent
a paper for any of the meetings. However, I must try and do better in the. future, for we cannot expect our club.to continue successful if we, the members, do not db our utmost to make the weekly meetings bright and instructive. I was indeed so pleased when I read of your club being re-opened by Dot; it shows us plainly that our honoured leader has the interest of the club at heart. We shall be showing more loyalty to her the more faithful we are as clah members. And then there is Shasta, our noble-president: we must all stand by her, as "she is depending on us all to help to carry on the good work. dwr president has always done so match for the good of the club; she has set a grand example for the members to follow. It will be ungrateful of us if we fail to do what we can. So, dear chums', let us, one and all, be up and doing. May each of us strive to do our best; that is all that is expected of -s.s. Lofc us obey Christ's command which is 4» love and serve our fellowmen. With best wishes to all from your sincere comrade. GRAVEL*. Lake Hayes, February 25.
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Bibliographic details
Otago Witness, Issue 2921, 9 March 1910, Page 84
Word Count
1,603OLD WRITERS' COLUMN. Otago Witness, Issue 2921, 9 March 1910, Page 84
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