THE GARLAND.

Otago Witness, Issue 3861, 13 March 1928, Page 68

THE GARLAND.

FOR THE QUIET HOUR. No. 758. By Duncan Wbioht, Dunedin. (For the Otago Witness.) GOLDEN AUTUMN. Come this autumn day where sun is shining! Cross the golden field with hand, in mine! There is gold to have without the mining, all our spirit with its shine: Not a bit of delving in dark places, Not a bit of envy or of strife; Golden sunshine in our happy faces, Naught but gold about us in our life; Yellow woodland to a ruapet turning, Yellow marsh as far as eye can see; ' Other thoughts of other riches spurning, Golden autumn’s gold enough for me. —Laura Walker. *. * * AUTUMN.

Autumn leaves! Autumn leaves! lie strewn around me here; Autumn leaves! Autumn leaves I how sad, how cold, how drear! How like the hopes of childhood’s day Thick clust’rihg bn the bough: How like those hopes in their decay How faded are they now! Autumn leaves, Autumn leaves, how sad, how around me hea-e; Autumn, leaves. Autumn leaves, how sad, how cold, how drear!

Wither’d leaves! .wither’d leaves! that fly before the gale: Wither’d leaves, wither’d leaves! ye tell a mournful tale; Of love once true and friends once kind And happy moments fled; Dispers’d by every breath of wind, Forgotten, changed, or dead. Autumn leaves! Autumn leaves, lie strewn around me here; Autumn leaves! Autumn leaves! how sad, how cold, how drear! ’ —Charles Dickens. * * * Charles Dickens gave advice to each of his children in turn—to study the NewTestament as the one unfailing guide in life. He also impressed upon them the habit of saying a Christian prayer every night and morning. “ These things have stood by me all through my life, and remember that I tried to render the New Testament intelligible to you and lovable by you -when you were a baby.” * * * Maeterlinck wrote: “There needs but so little to encourage beauty in your soul; so little to awaken the slumbering angels; or, perhaps, there is no need of awakening, it is enough that we lull them not to sleep, and out in the quiet woods deep with— THE BRONZE OF FALLEN LEAVES. And away on the moorlands where the grey wings of the winds are unfolded, and down by the dim and misty purple of the sea, surely it is to feel the presence of the hidden angels, and to listen to the low voice of their singing I For it is not true only that ‘ heaven lies about us in our infancy,’ for we wander not far from heaven in any path of our wayfaring, if wc so will it, and the innocence that lies in the eyes vf a little child, pure as the light of dawn on the hilltops, need never be quenched, but should broaden into the perfect light of day. For the gathering of experience and the acquiring of knowledge is not necessarily the acquiring of evil, and the soul may pass through the dim ways of earth (as a sunray unmarred through the darkness of the city), and return to its Maker unscathed. Unto us daily are given the gifts of beauty. In the light that quivers in the rush-grown mere, in the grey gossamer of the common thistle, there is the reflection of heaven.” * * * TO AUTUMN. Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness! Close bosom friends of the maturing sun; Conspiring with him how to load and bless With fruit the vines that round the thatchcaves run; To bend with apples the mossed cottage trees, And - fill all fruit with ripeness to the core; To swell the gourd, and plump the hazel shells With a sweet kernel; to set budding more, And still more, later flowers for the bees, Until they think warm days will never cease, For summer has o’er-brimmed their clammy cells: —John Keats (1820). * * * SUMMER AND AUTUMN. Bright merry songs for the children :— Her happy wondering eyes had ne’er Till now ranged summer meadows o’er; She would keep stopping everywhere To fill with flowers her pinafore. But when she saw how green and wide Field beyond field lay each one gay With endless flowers, she laughed, then sighed, “No use,-' and threw her spoils away. Amid the orchard grass she stood And watched with childish glee The big bright-burning apples shower’d Like star-falls from the tree: So when the autumn meteors fell, She cried, with outspread gown “Oh, my, papa, look! Isn’t God Just shaking apples down! —William Canion. * * * A HYMN OF HARVEST, Lord of harvest, God of love, Grateful song we now ‘ upraise! For Thy bounty from above, Richly crowning., all our days. Now we bless Thy holy Name For the plenteous golden yield! Thy sure mercies we acclaim In the wealth of waving field. Gather'd by the reaping band,' Now the sheaves they safely stow: With this ■ treasure ■ from Thy :hand i All the garners overflow. ;•

By the radiant sun’s warm glow, And the soft, refreshing shower Good increase didst Thou bestow, Crowning toil with Thy blest power. In the laden orchards sweet Hath the blend of sun and rain, Thy good purpose marie complete, With the fruit as in the grain. In the fields of time so broad, Where life’s harvests sure are grown! Gracious aid dost Thou afford, If the good eeed. there be sown. Lord, be ours the scatt’ring free! So when angel reapers come, Sheaves of service shall there be For the eternal Harvest Home! x —Frank H. Humby. * * * Thou visitest the earth and waterest it; thou greatly enrichest it -with the river of God, which is full of water; thou preparest them corn, when thou hast so provided for it. Thou waterest the ridges thereof abundantly; thou settlest the furrows; thou makest it soft with showers; thou blcssest the springing hereof. Thou, crowriest the year with thy goodness, and thy paths drop fatness. They drop upon the pastures of the wilderness, and the little hills rejoice on every side. The pastures are clothed with flocks; the valleys also are covered with com; they shout for joy, they also sing.—Psalm 65. * w * AUTUMN. (From the new Hymnary). The year is swiftly waning, The summer days are past, And life, brief life, is speeding; The end is nearing fast. The ever-changing seasons In silence come and go; But Thou, eternal Father. No time or change canst know. O pour Thy grace upon us, That we may worthier be, Each year that passes o’er us, To dwell in heaven with Thee. Behold, the bending orchards With bounteous fruit are crowned; Lord, in our hearts more richly Let heavenly fruits abound. O by each mercy send us, And by each grief and pain, By blessings like the sunshine, And sorrows like the rain. Our barren hearts make fruitful With every goodly grace, That w e Thy Name may' hallow. And see at last Thy face. —William Walsham How, 1823-97.