PEDLAR'S PACK.

Otago Witness, Issue 3312, 5 September 1917, Page 55

PEDLAR'S PACK.

"Love is rfl> huckster; that is mine is thlno." THE WELCOMER, O Death, why do men fear Thee, And dread to come anear Thee, And picture Thee a thing of haunting gloom? Thou art no grisly ghost But the fairest of Heaven's Host, And to liberty Thou leadest, not to doom 1 0, the smile of Thee, dear Death I O, the fragrance of Thy breath ! O, the love-light in Thine eyes, 60 aoftly gray ! If men but glimpsed Thy face They would leap to Thine embrace Flinging all Life offers scornfully away. Needs must Thou hide behind The foul phantom of man's mind, Lest Thy loveliness betray him, not befriend; Waiting that Age to be When man Thy face shall see, Yet play his part here till the appointed end. But when man's Soul, afraid Of that itself hath made, Shdes into thick abysses of despair) Lo, now, the tender jest— His head is on Thy breast, About him sweeps the marvel of Thy hair! He looks, one wild surprise, Into Thy dancing eyes; The nightmare fades; he draws a sudden breath, Smiles faintly back to Thee, And asks all wonderingly: "Sweet Bird of God, can you—can you be Death?" Ah, Thine answer stirs the deeps; Up to his feet he leaps Remade; he laughs aloud; his hand in Thine Like happy child he slips, And listens as Thy Lps Unfold the tenderness of Love Divine. . . < Fear not Death—for quick His ear Man's strangling cry to hear; Swift His hand to strike the fettering flesh away; 0, Mother-sweet His air, And exquisite His care As the weary one He lifts to larger Day. Maestas.