Poetry.

Star (Christchurch), Issue 5552, 25 February 1886, Page 3

Poetry.

TWO LOVERS. LBt George Eliot.] Two lovers by a moss grown spring : They leaned soft cheeks together tkero. Mingled iha dark and suuny hair, And heard the wooing thrushes siug. O budding time! U love's best prime ! Two wedded from the portal stept : The bells made happy carolling, The air was soft as fanning wing?, White petals on the pathway slept. O pare eyed bride I O tender pride ! Two faces o'er a cradle bent ; Two hands abovo the head were locked ; These pressed each other while they rooked. Those watched a life that love had sent. O solemn hour ! O bidden power ! Two parents by the evoning flro ; The red light fell about their knees On heads that rose by slow degrees Like buds upon the lily spire. O patient life! O tender strife ! The two still sat together there, The red light, ehone about their knees ; But all the heads by Blow degrees Had gone and left that looely pair. U voyage fast I O vanished post ! The red light shone npon the floor Ai:dmade the space between them wide ; They drew their chairs up side by side, Their pale cheeks joined, and said, " Once more I " O memories ! O past that is ! THE GREAT NAME OF ENGLAND. "We are rather disposed to laugh when poets or orators try to conjure with the name of England." Professor Sneley, in the Nineteenth Century. Whon Nelson's sadden sunol came Men's hearts leaped np the words to hail ; Not vainly wit a his England's name He conjured, but to tome avail ! When o'er the birkenhead her fate Closed, and our men arose to die. The name of England yet was great, And yet held np their hearts on high ! For England's honour Gord in chose, When England would not guard her own, Serene amidst a world of foea Alone to live, to die alone. Cut that great name, to Shakespeare dear, Of Engknd'H ocean- guarded isle, The voter grsets it with a sneer, The witling speaks it with a smile. Nay, if indeed that name no more Must, like a trumpet, stir the blood, Of all our fathers did and bore, For England, on the field or flood, If naught endures, if all must page, Then speed the hour when we shall be Unmoved and mute beneath the grass, Deaf to the mountains and the sea ! Deaf to the voice that Word9worth heard Reverberant from height and deep ; Blind to the homely bighte that stirred Our fathers, sileut and asleep. For so, at least, we shall not hear The voices from the meetings borne, Where England's children, with a Bueer, Hail " England " as a word of soorn. — A.L., iv the St James' Ga-.itte.