VERSE OLD AND NEW

Poverty Bay Herald, Volume LV, Issue 17062, 21 September 1929, Page 10

VERSE OLD AND NEW

ON GROWING OLD. Bo with me, Beauty, for the five is living, My dog and I are old, too old for roving. Man, whose young passion sets the spindrift flying Is soon too lame to inarch, too cold for loving. I take-the book and gather to the fire, Turning old vdlow leaves; minute hv minute. The clock ticks to my heart; a withered .wire Moves a thin ghost of music in the spinet. I can not sail your seas, I can not wander Vour corn land, nor your hill land nor your valleys. Ever again, nor share the battle vender Where the young knight the broken squadron rallies. Only sfav .quiet while mv mind remein- , bets The beauty of fire from the beauty of embers. Beauty, have pity, for the strong have power, The rich their wealth, the beautiful their grace, Summer of man its sunlight and its flower, •Springtime of man all April in a face. Only,' as in the jostling in the Strand, Where the mob thrusts or loiters or is '•The lijShr with the sabeer in his hand Asks only a penny from the passing crowd. So, from this glittering world with all its fashion, Its fire and play of men, its stir, its march, Let mo have wisdom, Beauty, wisdom and passion, Broad to the soul, rain where the summers parch. (rive me but these, and though the darkness dose Even the night will blossom as the rose. —John Masefield. HEALTH? Think health! Yourself as healthy see, For as you tiling within your heart, So you‘ll be. Talk health! Speak words of truth and praise, And know that wisdom’s tongue Is life and length of days. Act health ! Let manner, mood and mind, Show purpose, poise and power In high degree combined. Build health ! By thought and word and deed; Look high, have faith, endure, Persist and you’ll succeed ! —Grenville Kleiser. ..GRAIN AND CHAFF. 4 ' ' Oh! the comfort, The inexpressible comfort Of feeling safe with a friend, Having neither to weigh thoughts Nor measure words, But pouring them all right out Just as they are, Chaff and grain together; Certain that a faithful hand Will take and sift them, Keep what is worth keeping, And, with the breath of kindness, Blow the rest away.” —Anonymous, in the Welsh Outlook. DAYBREAK. | There is a peace for ever In the trees round about, That sets the leaves a-quivef And puts the glootu to rout. When over the quiet river The city lights die out. A sound like showers falling Aslhnt on ripened grain, Breathes in the woodlands, calling The drowsy earth again From night, and dreams enthralling, Across the brightening plain. Amt- now in countless millions The angels of the day Light up the blue pavilions Along the sapphire way. The stars go, heavy-laden, Down heaven’s wide thoroughfare; And morn is here, the maiden, With gold upon her hair. —James Clayton. THE TREES. The trees, these stalwart 'skeletons That bristle so When the long chill Brittle* the hough and dries the stones And' unfurs even the humblest hill. i Know no rebellion and no grief At infinite enforced routine; Each Fall the crimson, dying leaf, And every Spring the punctual green. —Clement Wood. CLOCKS. On what a brave and curious whim, Man gathers clocks to see And listen to theirUauuting him On his mortality. i How sharp a jest it is that man, With bitterest of mocks, Must memorize how short his span Upon a thousand clocks! —Louis Ginsberg. A PICTURE. The rain lias stopped; I pushed aside lily' chair And wandered out across the sodden lawn, Brushed past the drenching flowers • —my feet were drawn Towards the shade-soft woods —the sweet ’ning air Freshened my face —the clouds were breaking, and Deep strips of shining blue glowed , in the s'kv; The rain-pearled sun came out and sailed aliigh. Girded with mists, I reached the wood; that lnnd Of sleeping secrets and-of wlnsp’riug (tiles Of Beauty; silence held me —then a thrush Burst into song—and so the mossy hush Was scattered; and I stretched and pulled long trails Of honeysuckle down, the scent to gain, Which showered upon my face cool drops of rain. —Joan M'Cnllum.