A HOPELESS TASK AND VAIN.

Otago Witness, Issue 3017, 10 January 1912, Page 70

A HOPELESS TASK AND VAIN.

Ah, mo! a hopeless task and vain, When soul is sad and heart is aching, To seek oiroe more a joyous strain, To wake from harp whoso chord's are hnsakirg— When discord mingles with the tone, And darkness o’er the glory lingers, And naught hut jarring notes alone Reply to touch of careless fingers. Yet, let me once; while shadows fall, And baleful gloom is round me creeping, And tender haunting mem’ri-es call From grave when© iov© and hope are Bleeping; Strike my ruined lyre—enough for me If it hath power in its wild numbers To move to tears the misery Tha/t now* so frozen, death-bound, slumbers. For tears are good, and bring relief When ills come feeling’s fountain freezing, An outlet to the tide of grief They flow, the pain-bound spirit easing ; So on the « a .d chc-rds I lay A trembling . .... d, tlrat swift may walien A strain to drive one woe away I* 1 mm soul by countless wees o’ertaken. But not for alien oars to hear, Or hearts made blunt with glad excesses; Hiarp, wreathed with myrtle, withered, sere. Its bursting soul of grief expresses— Oh, no! to such the sens© were hard ■ And meaningless—on who have tested The woe of life from love debarred, Alone my strain would not bo wasted. Then let such spirits with me stand, While mellow*moonlight softly streaming Gives earth the look of mystic land We oft behold when fondly dreaming— Let loved and lost come back once more, And wear those dear familiar faces Thai in the early times they wore, Ere sorrow marked them with its traces. So when the tender radiant stars O’er earth their nettled gleams are flinging, Their spirits all materia] bans Shall burst, and to mine own come winging; And while against the piercing thorn The nightingale her breast is leaning, Ere earth leaps to embrace of morn, I’ll teach them all my song’s sad meaning. Know ye to whom tire poet brings A joy in strain evoked by sadness, That sweetest, truest eong ho sings Hath oft a note allied to madness? That while a rapture he awakes, Your weary oares of life beguiling, « Hia slighted' heart with anguish breaks— His lips but sigh while yours are smiling. That while your coarser natures feel Ho want of kindness ’tis his portion, In dearth of such, aside to steal, And mourn his soul’s too keen emotion; As fire must crystallise the gem Of thought, before it brightly flashes. The boated action oft for him To earth life's calmer pleasures dashes. —Shamrock.