Selected Verse

Waikato Times, Volume 116, Issue 19462, 29 December 1934, Page 11 (Supplement)

Selected Verse

A CHURCHWARDEN AND THE RURAL DEAN. “ A* Rural Dean travelled his deanry thro’, Ti see if the choc'hs were lit ti view, He tackled churchwardens an’ lelled ’em. straight, If owl, could he seen ’at he thowt warn t right. “When lie sat, tiv oor clioch lie looked inside, An’ underneath cushions an’ pews lie spyed; • . He look me an’ showed me a oroken chair, An’ said ’at the clioch was needing more care. “ Afy choeh he says is as clean as can When you’re passin’ by just look in an Ancl our’ churchwardens they wad feel disgraced. If owt whatsoever had been displaced. “ Ah’ve heeard o’ your clioch All says tl the Dean, They say ’at it’s tidy an’ carry clean; Ali’ve heeard tell, too, there’s a varry good cause, There is na muck, for there’s neeabody ’goes.” —GEORGE HARDWICK. RESTRICTION. “ Higgled)', piggledy. my black lion, She lays eggs for gentlemen. Genllemen come every day To count wloit my black hen doth lay. If perchance she lays 100 many “ They line my hen a pretty penny. If perchance she fails lo lay, The genllemen a bonus pay. “ Miiiiildedy, pumbledy, my red cow. She's co-operating now, Al ilrsl she didn't understand, Thai milk 1 production must he planned; She did not midei'slnnd al llrsl. She eilher had lo plan or Inii'sl, Rill now Ihe Governinenl l'epol'ls She's giving pints instead of .| ii;irls.” S' —Texlile Urganon. of New "i ork.

LOVE’S ANSWER. Time was I dream’d ‘ that all life’s dreams were vain Since, as poor candles, quench’d by Sorrow’s breath, They had gone out in darkness, when grey Death Walk’d in among them, chill with Winter’s rain— Or as the stars we yearn to slowly wane— Or as a rose-bud garden witherth When Autumn walketh westward: and Grief sait'li Joy that is past comes never our way again. Lo! as f mourn’d with bitter unquiet complain— My sad heart fluttering in me like a bird, Finding not that for which my soul was fain— A wither’d rose-leaf flickered past my pane: Yesterday’s face look’d on me: and I heard To-morrow’s footstep coming up the lane; —LAUCHLAN Mac LEAN WATT. ONLY A SECOND TROMBONE. “ I’m only a Second Trombone, But whatever the world may say. I’m bent upon playing a trombone’s part In a kind and courageous way. What matters it ir my tone is weak And some of my notes arc flat? Though I’m only a Second Trombone, girls, I’m not any the worse for that . . . •• I’m only a Second Trombone. Bill one of these days you II And Some hint of the passionate, human thoughts Ttiat Turn in a trombone’s mind; They're thoughts Unit would stultify a bassoon. And slasger a clarinet: Bill they’re only a Second Trombone’s, girls. And nobody ' knows llioni yet From songs of a Sub-Man. b> PATH 11 IK BABBINGTII.N.