THE WEEK’S POEM.

Otago Witness, Issue 4042, 1 September 1931, Page 70

THE WEEK’S POEM.

For the first poem this week, children, I am giving you “ The Wakers,” by John Freeman, a bright, exciting piece of description telling how the wind and the grass had a frolic before the sun rose, and how their frolic was very short, even though it was very happy. For the second 1 am giving you “ A Great Time, ’ by W. H. Davies, one of my own very favourite poems. It tells how a poet go< s out after the rain is over, and beholds a rainbow just at the moment when a cuckoo begins to sing; and how delighted it makes him to have had that moment. Could you learn that poem by heart? I DOT. I THE WAKERS. ! The joyous morning ran and kissed the ■ grass And drew his fingers through her sleep- I ing.hair, j And cried, “ Before thy flowers are well awake j Rise, and the lingering darkness from thee shake. “ Before the daisy and the sorrel buy Their brightness back from that close- ; folding night, Come, and the shadows from thy bosom shake, Awake from thy thick sleep, awake, awake! ” Then the grass of that mounded meadow stirredAbove the Roman bones that may not stir, Though joyous morning whispered, shouted, sang: The grass stirred as that happy music rang. Oh, what a wondrous rustling everywhere! The steady shadows shook and thinned and died, The shining grass flashed brightness back for brightness, And sleep was gone, and there was heavenly lightness. As if she had found wings, light as the wind, The grass flew, bent with the wind, from east to west, Chased by one wild grey cloud, and flashing all Her dews for happiness to hear morning call . . . But even as I stepped out the brightness dimmed, I saw the fading edge of all delight. The sober morning waked the drowsy herds, And there was the old scolding of the birds. A GREAT TIME. Sweet Chanee, that led my steps abroad Beyond the town, where wild flowers grow— A rainbow and a cuckoo! Lord, How rich and great the times are now’! Know all ye sheep And cows that keep On staring that I stand so long In grass that’s wet from heavy rain— A rainbow and a cuckoo’s song May never come together again; May never come This side the tomb.