SELECTED VERSE.

Waikato Times, Volume 96, Issue 15033, 2 September 1922, Page 11 (Supplement)

SELECTED VERSE.

FOUR SONNETS. (By Pupils of Hamilton High School.) Lake Rotorua. Oh! magic mirror of keen sapphire blue, Reflecting beauties of the §arth and sky, In glory painted on your surface lie Clouds, birds, mountains, green trees, and rushes too, With timings richer than man ever knew. The artist sun looks downward from on high To watch his glowing, painted pictures die Prom sapphire, amethyst, to rosy hue; He leaves his painting to the art of night. ■ The moon, who softly, greyly smears the canvas o’er, Replaces blue with yet a darker shade; Then shadow contrasts with fair flecks of light: ' PJanrfts and stars, so there is not a flaw', Until the storm-wind comes and colours fade. •—Violet Jolly. Day and Night. The beams shine through the leaves in golden showers, And glitter there on beds of blazing light, Where bright-hued insects dart in wild affright Around the ' sun-kissed honey-laden flowers. Comes sound of laughter ' from the rosy bowers Where goblins dance and jeer in mad delight; And noisy crickets sing from dawn till night Their cheerful songs throughout the happy hours. But now the slowly dying sun has gone; His parting rays pale—fainting in the west. Our weary eyes soon seek for other charms — A whisper on a straying breeze is borne Of drowsy sounds that softly sink to rest. A pause—and Night close holds us in her arms.

—Marjorie Sawle.

To Lake Rotorua. Upon thy shimmering bosom glanced bright rays Of golden light cast downward by the sun, The cloudless sky now deep bloodred has run, And over all, there steals a mystic haze, As night with dusky mantle veils the bays; The cares of days diminish and arc done; For birds and beasts their night’s repose have won; And in my' heart a peaceful feeling stays. Lo! yonder in the east doth rise the moon, A glorious orb reflected in that sea Of crystal. Till the burning heart of me O’erflow.s with silent worship. All too soon The glorious and dark clouds of night do flee, And daybreak shows ihy face with mist bestrewn. ; —Nkn Douglas. Morning and Evening'ln Troy. In dewy stillness, in Hie sacred hour, When nymphs and dryads rise to greet the morn, Aurora blusheth, He Add of the Dawn, Over Troy as gleameth Ilion’s tower, ... Where stilly stands a sentinel, or power The mute symbol; when, lo! there comes a faun, Led to the sacrifice of earliest morn; The city waketh like an opening flower, The purple shadows lengthen in the vale, The sun sinks slowly in the golden West,, The sky in flaming colours all is drest, Dusk gathers swiftly, Nature’s darkening veil, Tile weary city slowly sinks to rest, And silver Dian’s car illumes the dale. —Jean Wchlmann. THE THRUSH’S ANSWER. Why should I not my song ol praise So sweetly sing? I’m free, Because that God taught me those lays Of heavenly minstrelsy. Each happy hour on Him depend For food and shelter too, And trust Him to the \erj end — A lesson this for you’.

Why should I dread dark, stormy days Of winter’s blast and rain? My sons' in sweetest strain I’ll raise, Nor is that song in vain. So you may learn each passing hour To sing through joy or pain, And trust in God’s almighty power, Which brings in endless gain. —E.J., Te Rapa. [The above is an answer to a contribution, entitled “To a Thrush,” by Te Rapa, which appeared in last Saturday’s Supplement.] ■ REMEMBERED. I loved such little,unimportant words That you would whisper in my car — inconsequent as flight of birds; Like “bear —my dear!” I loved the funny little ways you had. Your sudden laugh, your twinkling eye, The touch of your dear hands, so glacl, Possessive, shy. Y r ou would not think that I could miss thorn so— A voice i loved a little while, A turn of thought I’d come lo know, And just a smile. —Miriam Pomeroy. RECOMPENSE. This guerdon lias the nameless soldier won, Above his wept-for comrades glorified ; Ten thousand fathers speak of him with pride, Ten Ihousiuid mothers breathe, “Tins , was my son.” —Mabel J a B.ounjuim,