SELECT POETRY.

Wairarapa Standard, Volume 3, Issue 188, 23 June 1874, Page 2

SELECT POETRY.

THE FISHERMAN’S SPbPIOKa. - The sea is calling, eating. Wife, is there a log toipareT' '■ ’' Fling it down on the hearthandeall them in, * The boys and giriswith their Any din, - - ; I’m. loth to leave yon all jqst yet. In the light and the noise 1 ought (orget The. yoipe on the evening air. The sea is calling, calling, Along tiie hollow shore. 1 know each nook in the rocky strand. And the crimson weeds, and the golden sand, And the worn out cliff where the sea- " pinks cling, And the winding caves where the echoes ring. I shall wake them never more. How it keeps calling, calling, It is never a night to saiL I saw the “ sea-dog” over the height. As I strained through the base my failing sight, And the cottage creaks and rods, well nigh, As the “Old Fox” did in the days gone by, In the moan of the rising gale. Yet it is calling, calling. It is hard on a soul I say Tb go flattering oat in the cold and _ the dark, like the bird they tell of from the ask, While the foam flies thick on the latter blast. And the angry waves roll .fierce and faft, . , Where black buoy marks the

Do yon hear it calling, calling T And yet I’m none so old. At tbaherring fishery, bat last yen; No heat bcot raine for tackle aqd gear,. And If sjtsiswd the cobble past tin wet, ' T . Whan the broad sail shook like a withered leaf, And the rudder chafed my hold. Will it never atop calling, calling t Can’t yen sing a song by the hearth. A heartaome stave of a many glaaa, Or a gallant fight, or a bonny lan. Don’t yon care for your grand-dad just so much. Come near then, give me a hand to touch, Still warm with the warmth of earth. Ton hoar it calling, «*lHng | Ask her why she sits and erica. She always did when the aea wae op. She would fret, and new taka feat or WheaTand the lads were ont at wight. And she saw the breakers creating white Beneath the low Mask akiaa. But, then, in ita oalling. oailißft No summons to aonj was sent. Now—well fetch- the parson, find the book. It is up on the shelf there if yon look. The sea has been friend, and fire, and bread; ivhetoft wiH tall of me, lying' How it called, and ! ran and tkdhA 4 ,v;= —AB the fear Sound.