TWO LIVES.

Star (Christchurch), Issue 5861, 1 May 1897, Page 3

TWO LIVES.

Two roßes, on one tree : One, ragged ana draggled, of dull, stained gold, Its inmost heart unhid, and weather soil'd, Its curves crushed up and torn, as it had toil'd In vain 'gainßt tempestß manifold That beat about the tree. The other, a small bud, . . With dew of diamond dnst npon iti lips. And dew along the face of each eoft curve. Glowing, as tho' a flood From the warm sun, in sudden swerve— As whenin«merald.and gold he dips Into the sea — Had but an instant lit . . . s . And touched tha dewy bud, And it had taken light and Jife f ronvit, Was lovely, glanced, and gleamed, and;,, glowed Of it; Thus, in the morning free. Two roses, on one tree. At even the full rose was blown Prom its bent Btem away, And its soil'd leaves were scattered on the earth j The bud remained, fragrant and fresh in birth ; And smiling, in the morn, met smiling day, Opening its sweetnesses alone. Two natures in one life At constant strife ; Thin shoulders, forward stooped and inward beat, Narrowing the breast between ; Eyes sunken, their light almost Bpeat, ' Save when a passing glance Lifts the soul from its trance, But deeper sinking when the lifeihaß been j Thin hands and nervous fingers ; Drawn lips, where a sad smile lingers Forever; Cheeks sunken, and shrunken From pristine roundneßß and fairness. Had now, lighted never In their unsoundness and, sparenesß By the blush of yore, Only the hectic flush, that comes o'er An instant when eyes are inflamed With passions unnamed. Two natures ; a fallen life ;— But the strife, A piteous wail ; a low call ; A gesture of helplessneßß ; small Hands clasped, unclasped, and beckoning* Eyes, sad beyond reckoning : — " Oh, oh, little god of Love. Wilt thou remain, throned above. Scorning, despising, chastising P Come in thy rosy cloud ; Either enfold or enshroud t Me, in thy meshes ; - Firo me, prison me fast, So I am loved at the last, — For nothing so strong as the spirit, And nothing so weak as the-fleßh is, ■ Oh, little god, what is merit, • . . That some may obtain, and some not P ' I,— l am looked on askance ; On me is a blot ; . • ... Is there not one only glance, lonely glanoa, Sof c glance, to bid me look up ? Ah, all my cup With passions is flU'd to the brim ; 4 Lives he not who shall dash it away, Fill it with purity, , Love in its surety, So I may oling to, and look to him, Him, my saviour, for aye ? — , Oh, little god of love I Tho' thou must stoop to my state, Wilt thou look upon it P Thou art bo happy above, Canst not thou spare one jot, to elate Lost souls in the nethermost pit. The gloom of despair ?" Wan lips, wet bright eyes, Anon closed, hands clasped and uplifted, Massy, black, rippled hair— The noose of the snare To drag down her soul fey men's *mT»iiff, - Sad face,— but the dross is sifted, On the breath of contrition drifted Silently, like the sands. To the dark, still past. % Lo, how the rifled rose falls, Its leaves scattered and cast ; ■■ \ As the soft breath of even calls, The dewed bud of purity wakes ( Life, blossoming, breaks Sweet evermore. ■ . . • • JOHS C-AHDIBSIBr.