From The Poets

Southland Times, Issue 20044, 4 December 1926, Page 23 (Supplement)

From The Poets

ARAB LOVE-SONG. The humped camels of the night Trouble the bright And silver waters of the moon. The Maiden of the Morn will soon Through Heaven stray and sing, Star gathering. Now while . the dark about our loves is strewn, Light of my dark, blood of my heart, O, come! And night will catch her breath up, and be dumb. ) Leave thy father; leave thy mother And thy brother; Leave the black tents of thy tribe apart! Am I not thy father and thy brother, And thy mother? And thou—what needest with thy tribe’s black tents Who hast the red pavilion of my heart? —Francks Thompson. —Sent in by Cousin Daphne Godward.

HOW SLEEP THE BRAVE. How sleep the brave, who sink to rest By all their country’s wishes blest! When Spring, with deWy fingers cold,. Returns to deck their hallow’d mound, She there shall a sweeter sod Than fancy’s feet have ever trod. By fairy hands their knell is rung, By forms unseen their dirge is sung, There Honour comes, a pilgrim grey, To bless the turf that wraps their clay, And Freedom shall awhile repair To dwell a weeping hermit, there! —W. Collins. —Sent in by Cousin Isabel Knowles.