VERSE.

Timaru Herald, Volume XIIIC, Issue 14325, 15 October 1910, Page 1 (Supplement)

VERSE.

TEAItS. fl*h«a I consider life- and its few years— A wisp of fog betwixt us and the sun; A. call to battle, and the battle dune lire the last echo diesf within our ears; A rose chtfked iu the grass; an hour of fears; The gusts +Jia.t past a. darkening shore do heat; The burst of music down an unlistenrcg street — I wonder at the idlaoess of tears. Ye old, old dead, and ye of yesternight— Chieftains and bards and keepers of tho sbsep. By every cup cf sorrow that you had, Loose ma from tears, and make me see aright How ea<;h. hath back what once he staved to weep: Homer his sight, David his little lad! i—Lizette .Wocdworth Reese. SONG OF THE DRIFT WEED. Here's to the home that was never, "never ours! Toast- it full and fairly when the winter lowers. Speak ye low, my merry men, sitting at your ease: Harken to the homeless drift in tho roaring seas! Here's to the life we shall never live on earth! Cut for us awry, awrv, ages ere the birth. Set the teeth and meet it well, wind ' upon tiie shore: Like a lion, in the face look the nevermore I Here's to the lore we were never letto winl What of that? a many shells have a pearl within; Gome are mated with, the gold in tho light of day; Some are buried fathoms deep, in the seas away. Here's to the selves yra shall never, never be! -We're the drift- of the world and the tangle of the sea. It's far beyond the Pleiid, it's out- beyond the sun fWhere the rootless shall be rooted when the wander-year is done I i—Jessie Mackay, in "Land of the Morning."