SELECTED VERSE

Waikato Times, Volume 127, Issue 21260, 2 November 1940, Page 11 (Supplement)

SELECTED VERSE

FATHER ENGLAND “You are old. Father England,” young Adolf said, “And I wonder you keep up the fight; Yet you seem to be far from an invalid’s bed— Do you think, at your age, it is right?” “In my youth,” Father England replied to the Boche, “I was trained on roast beef and strong ale; While you devoured pamphlets and similar tosh— No wonder you’re anxious and pale!” “You are old,” Adolf sneered, “and an object of mirth, And your methods are quite obsolete; Yet you’re able to hold down a fifth of the earth— Pray, how do you manage this feat?” “In my youth,” said the sage, “when my flag I unfurled, I was careful to set people free; So rather than hold down a fifth of the world— A fifth of the world holds up me!” —From Watch Below, The Syren and and Shipping, London. THE FLEET GOES OUT The fleet is ready; in the quiet reeds It has been anchored now for three long weeks. A shallow pool is all a duckling needs. And mother wings are all a duckling seeks. But how the flagship leads the squadron forth From its lagoon. Beyond the awesome bridge The rushing river bisects south and north, Flaunting its danger and its privilege. So wide the waters, and so small the craft! Each solemn little bill is held in line. Each little paddle bravely kicks abaft. And in the apexed wake the ripples shine. The fleet is ready! Let the world stand still, And June lean gently from the blooming hill. —Silence Buck Bellows.

TO THE FREE FRENCHMEN We vaunted many a gallant deed In wars of long ago, When rivalries of State decreed A friend should be our foe. But peace restored made swift amends For blows not struck in hate, And ancient foes stand firmest friends In this grim hour of fate. Nor we nor you were less than true To the code of chivalry, But Britain claimed her island due, Dominion on the sea. Tow, with a menaced world to save, It is our pride to share, Vith wings outsoaring strand and wave, “ Dominion in the air.” -Lord Rennell in the Daily Telegraph, London. JOURNEY TO THE PUEBLO Beside the road Sunflowers glowed; The clouds patterned shadow Over the road; Beyond the road, * Billows of rock Burnt-yellow glowed, Flock upon flock. Through the arroyo, Over the high plateau Up, round and downward, Onward we go; Here the green pinyons Scattered, sun-smitten, Amid the grey sage, Give way to a valley Behind cottonwoods hidden. Fields plumed with cornstalks Are keeping their ranks there; Mocking the burnt rock With broad blades a-flare; And in the midst, set densely on earth, Shadeless, sun-drunken, Dried yellow, mellow, Round its tan plaza, By its high kiva, The terraced pueblo Has suddenly sprung into birth. —John Gould Fletcher