Among the Poets

Star (Christchurch), Issue 16539, 24 September 1921, Page 4

Among the Poets

3i n i o || h Bespit of Vstsbs |

CURIOUS RHYMES. What a® eerih c Beaton?—A place to dig graves. What is earth, rich man?—A rplaca to wor> slaves. What is earth, grey-beard ? —A place to grow old. What, is earth, miser?—A place to di" gold. What 1j earth, schoolboy?—A place for my play. What is earth, maiden ?—■A placs to be gay. What is earth, eeamstress?—A place whore I weep. What is earth, sluggard?—A good place to sleep. What is earth. eoMier ?—A place for a battle. What is earth, herdsman?—A place to r»i3® cattle. What is earth, widow?—A place of truo sorrow. What is earth, tradesman ?—l’ll tell you to-morrow. What is earth, sick man? —’Yin nothing to What is earth, sailor?—My homo is the pea. What is earth, statesman?—A place to win fame. What ia earth, author?—-I write there my What is earth, monarch ?——For my realm ’tie given. What is earth, Christian?-—The gateway of Heaven. WEEPING WILLOW. To tba river’s restless billow Gently bends the weeping willow; Half. receding, yet advancing. Flowing, eddying, whirling, dancing; Lightnings from the ripples glancing, And a murmur all entrancing, With a half-subdued hissing, Come from where the Avon’s kissing Lovely branches of th© willow, Bending to the restless billow, Weeping Willow. Even so the turbid waters May sustain the fairest daughters; One may foster, feed, and nourish, And the other bow to flourish, Kis s tho stream and call it mother, to earth a more than brother; For no false divisions smother One’s reliance on the other; Learn a lesßon from the willow, Bending to the restless biZio-w. Weeping Willow.

Graceful as the home of fairy, Ts thy ehad© go cool and airy; There the sun is sraily peeking Through the flowing tendrils steeping? In the stream so freely leaping, As if wooing tltee while sweeping Pest thy branches, weeping willow, Bending to the restless billow. Weeping Willow. THE SONG OF THE -SEA. Ok, the glorious tang of the salt sea wind, And th© dash of th© sparkling spray, And th© creamy whit© foam, that we leave behind. As we oieare through tho hearing grey, While the flash of th© ssa gall's paajrly wings. ’Gainst th© oliffs away at cue 100, And th© haunting strains that th© sea sprite sings Are th© lure of the restless eoo. There aro storm cloud® eouddinnr across the »ky, And a:a cff-shor© lashing th© foam,. And th© aoa, mew's scroaru, ihat’e a weloofn© cry To a HTeat ship making for home. You can foci her quiver beneath your feet, As ah© rides o’er th© waves with glee, For eh© go©3 through etorm, and eh© seila through sleet, To tile coll of th© rostlose eca. —Kathleen M. Grant. DOWNPOUR.

: Shattered cil-rer th© rain 2s falling Over tho drowned rnoou in th® sea: Th© muffled horns of the rain are calling Reluctantly. Snuffed are the candles in the houses, ! Tho wet birds ruffle close together, A lank mure, unremorabeved, drowse® Drenched tfc hex tethor. Hoods ar© rutted tad old waggon® Lumber end lung© on sunken atones, The. rain at a thousand gusty, flagons Gurgles and groan 3. Th© reef whiten© hex oiiain c t rock | Under the downpour’s hammering, Clouds encounter, and the shock Sots them stammering. Shattered ailver th© rain ia falling j Over the drowsed m«cc in th© see-. Th© muffled horns of tho rain are calling Incessantly. —Josoph A uslandor. TIME’S WAY. This night when I *o wearily Climb up the* stairs to sleep. Shall gather magic in its wake, Stand with th© shadow day® that make Remembrance gentle, for the sake Oi what it has keep. Th© heaviness that is ay mind, Th© awkward things I do, Will all be lost—but I eball know An orange moon was tipping low. And that I stood to watch it go, While a far train whistle blew. And I ehall so© across th© years Held in a misty light, A window ai:d th© moon an d me, So young! 1 ehall sigh pleasantly, And never, never think to be Old oe I am to-night! —Hortenae Flexner. THE “ OLD, OLD SONG.” When all th© world is young, le*T* r And all tho trees axe green; And every yooß© a swan. lad. And ev#ry less a queen; Then hey for b-oot and horse, lad, And round, tlie world away; Young blood must have its course, !od, And every dog- his day. When' all the world is old, lad, And all the trees ero brown; And ftll th© 6port is stale, lad. And all the wheel a run down: Creep home, and take your placa there, Tho spent and maim’d among: God grant you find one face there You loved when all was young. —O. Kings ley. ADVERSARY. c ‘ The time is passed for all these histrionics. Hoy, this ia not th© garden of your love That’s only a blao sky-piece hung above, Wings and back-drop just canvas—old mnemonic© Used by g?o3® nature. What you need are tonics Of laughter, food of friendslii*o, surfeit of Th© raw repast of life —you sacking dor©l Lord! does it mean that you’re among th© * chronics ’ ? Oh. ludicrous!” So in my mind grown grim Hooted old Adam, that bitter, bard gainsayer; But bright e<s lightning another biased on him Furiously, and felled th© base betrayer, Sprang with a splendour of wing'So soared through fierce flame. Blinded all heaven with crying o£ your name? —William Res® Beuet,