SONG OF THE FATES.

Star (Christchurch), Issue 5668, 12 September 1896, Page 3

SONG OF THE FATES.

Clotho. The hurrying l'eet of women at the new-born infant's cry, We hear them, Eileithyia, we hear them, thou and I ; The first breath of the Zephyr, the flush of breaking day, The earliest budo are mine, and mine the riverfountain's play ; I see men shape the keel beside the ever-sounding main, I see tho huge foundation-stone drop from the groaning ciane ; Nought rack I whither pass the threads my whirling spindle flings, As I draw through restless fingers the earnest of after things. Lachesis. Turn, turn thy wheel, O Fortune, while swift my shuttle flies ; Sea far below the golden domes flash under summer skies ; Now the noisy pomp of triumph, now the silentspeeding sails, Sow tLe merchants chaffering in the mart around the closu-packed bales, Now the easy might of the eagle's wing, now the oak with wealth of shade I weave, and the laughing bridegroom and the coyly-smiling maid ; The fabric of Life in myriad hues I weave to what shapes I list From the threads, as out of the mist they come, and fade again into mist. Atropos. I hear the groans of the fallen, mid the crash of trampling hosts, Ere to th.cc, dread summoner Orcus, sweep downward their shrieking ghosts ; Last plinth of the crumbling temple, last boughs of the Wasted tree, Sands ever usurping to Silence the realm of the boisterous sea I mark, and trace on the stone of a once omnipotent will, And the dust as it slowly covers the craftsman's perish* d skill ; To the sound of ceaseless wailing I ply my ruthless shears, y And Earth beneath me darkens with infinite rain of tears. —Poll Mall Magazine. THE COUNTERSIGN WAS MARY\ 'Twos near the break of day, hut still The moon was shining brightly, TLe west wind as it passed the flowers Set each oue swaying lightly ; The sentry slow paced to and fro, ' A faithful night watch keeping, While in the tents behind him stretched His comrades— all were sleeping. Slow to and fro the sentry paced, j His musket on his shoulder ; But not a thought of death or war Was with the brave young soldier. Ah, no ! his heart was far away J Where, on a western prairie, A rose twined cottage stood. That night The countersign was " Mary." And there his own true love ho saw, I Her blue eyes kindly beaming , Abeve them, on her sun-lassedbrow, Her curls like sunshine gleaming : — He heard her singing as she churned The butter in tnc dairy, The song he loved the bast. That night The countersign was " Mary." " Oh, for one kiss from her!" he sighed, When up the lone road glancing, He ispied a form, a little form, With faltering stepe advancing ; And as it uearsd him, silently Ho gazed at it in wondor, Then dropped his musket to his hand, And challenged—" Who goes yonder ?" Still on it came. " Not one step more, Be you man, child or fuiry Unless you give the countersign; Halt! Who goes there !"— " Tin Mary," A sweet voice cried, and in his arms The girl he'd left behind him Halt-fainting fell. O'er many miles She'd bravely toiled to find him. *• I heard that yon were wounded dear," She sobbed "My heart was breaking ;. I could not stay a moment, but, All other ties forsakii>!r, I travelled, by my grief made strong, Kind heaven watching o'er me, Until— unhurt and well ?" " Yes, loTe,"— " At last you stood before me. " They told me that I could not pass The lines to seek my lover Before day fairlj came ; but I Pressed on 'ere night was over, And, as I told my name, I found The way free as our prairie." "Because, thank God I tonight,'' ho said, -' limrniiiiiffiiii