VAGRANT VERSE
ACHERON. Oh, let me write of Acheron. That river out of the biack sun, Where hearts tio longer feel or break, Or beat for some tall beauty’s sake; But where there delicately glide, Upon that sedgy riverside, Pale, lonely wraiths that once could love In the green meadows there above, Where the long grasses bend and swing, There might I meet that darksome king Who is the last and fearful friend, Who lays his hand on you and smiles, And says, "Beloved, ’tis the end!” And, oh, the Queen Persephone, That sits beside him on his throne. He stole by the Aegean Sea, A flower ’mid flowers all alone! —Bv Richard I.e Gallicnne.
Permanent link to this item
https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/ST19300903.2.26
Bibliographic details
Southland Times, Issue 21178, 3 September 1930, Page 4
Word Count
115VAGRANT VERSE Southland Times, Issue 21178, 3 September 1930, Page 4
Using This Item
Stuff Ltd is the copyright owner for the Southland Times. You can reproduce in-copyright material from this newspaper for non-commercial use under a Creative Commons BY-NC-SA 3.0 New Zealand licence. This newspaper is not available for commercial use without the consent of Stuff Ltd. For advice on reproduction of out-of-copyright material from this newspaper, please refer to the Copyright guide.