VERSE OLD AND NEW

New Zealand Graphic, Volume XXXVII, Issue 21, 24 November 1906, Page 25

VERSE OLD AND NEW

Tke Midnight Moon. The jewelled sovereign of the bjiliny night, In flood of brilliant glory far outshone The courting stars, arid from her skybuilt throne Shod down an ivory sea of pallid light. Bathing this grimy world in heavenly white. Singing a hiffaby to ocean moan, Hushing the burly wind, whose wings bad flown O'er Held and forest in an angry flight. The empress of the Quiet hours. O, Moon! >Thon ait the symlrni of inlliiity! Man, Imsely wrapt in strife from morn to noon. In steep lies at Hiy- mystical decree; The midnight flees ilie m>et soul too soon, f Who loves that* trystihg of dlviirttjr. LEONARD CHRISTOPHER. , Mlle. Pocahontas. Who is t-liis Indian maiden fair. With nut-brown cheek and golden hair. With twinkling orbs and walk of grace. And dimples lighting up her face. In filmy gown of late design •That dazzles so tlie.se eyes.of mine? What Is her-tribe? For I would know .Whence coinelh this sUango chi hl of Lo. No Indian maiden I have seenIn. days gone by hath ever lieen So nigh a queen; Nor have I ever heard of one Whose locks outshone the rising sun In golden brilliance shimmering. As soft as are the airs of spring, Ami living in the autumn breeze I,ike fairy fabrics in the trees. The daughters of Geronimo, Of Powhatan and Idaho. Had raven tresses black as night To hide their shoulders from our sight. And dimpling cheeks and orbs of blue That shame the very heaven s hue, I've never seen on girls or hoys Descended from the Iroquois; And as for gowns from o'er the sea. Ami bonuets fresh from far Paris— Who ever saw a Navajo In some creation of Viiol? Egad, ’twould till my soul with bliss To win a squaw to equal this! Whai ? Phyllis? You. this Indian maid. You haughty, naughty little jade. Returned to town and all its tlirins From summering amid the hills' And this your dusky cheek—this tan You've brought along to dazzle man? Ab. well. I'm not at. all surprised At Pocahontas so disguised— Were 1 the sun I think I, too. , Would kiss your cheek the summer tlirou O U, —John Kendrick Bangs, in “Munsey's. Fishing. I went fishing, so did Sue; Cnpil. lie went fishing, too, tin the sly! Willi our Hues precisely Ruled. On the bank we sat and waited, But the fish -were shy. . Susan's sun-kissed clieeks were glowing, Susan's dimples, coyly showing, -Proved a pretty miiive: And mv thoughts were somehow tangled, All the’ time I sat and angled. With her silken hair. Fishes? Well. there were not many; ■ Finny ones there were not any, Still, we caught u few . Suslin caught ones so did 1. Though the water-folk were shy; Cuphl? He caught two! —Grace Stone Field. To an Empty Purse, Oh. vast and vain vacuity, a curse Upon thy emptiness! It grieves me sore To gaz* into thine empty depths, (lion purse. Thou primal nothingness forevermore! Thou vastnc-ss and infinitude of space, Thon bottomless, unending depth profound. Abysmal, empty, mid mi fathomed place, Not e'en the echoes, in thy walls resound! Unburdened, hollow, destitute of nil. Thou dismal, deep concavity of wo. E'en gravitation will not. bid thee fall. Nor hast thou wings to make thee heavenward go. Thou yawning, oscillating, gaping chasm, Of.all that never wan and ne'er will be. Thou art the synonym, the fitting plasm—• Nihility abme resides with thee! —Thomas Speed Mosby, in “Munsey's.” Over the Milla. 6ver the hills and far away A little hoy steals from his morning's play, And under the blossoming apple tree lie lies mid lie drennis of the things to be; Of battles fought arid of victories won.

Of wrongs overthrown and of great deeds done— Of the valour that he shall prove some day. Over the hills and far away— Over the hill* and far away I Over the hills and far away It’s, oh, for the toil the livelong day! But it mattered not to the soul aflame With a love for riches and power and fame! On, oh. man! while the sun is high— On to the certain joys that lie Yonder where blazetli the noon of day’ Over tiie hills and far away— Over the hills aud far away! Over the hills aud far.away Ah old inau lingers at dose of day: Now that his journey is almost done. His battles fdu gilt and bls victories won The old time honesty and truth, The trustfulness and the friends of youth. Home and mother — where are they'/ Over the hills and far away? Over the hills and far away! “Atlanta Constitution.** On Guard. Sentinel round your garden The tali white, lilies grew. No wonder well tliey guarded— A mistress such as you! And hollyhocks a regiment, ” Red' coats in gallant show Against its wall stood straightly. In pralaux row on row. Bluecoats your larkspurs many, . From out their spreading green, A body-guard provided For their old garden’s queen. At last was gained an audience. Beyond the serried guard, Hands kissed upon appointment Or . .. . well ... a fair award. The hollyhocks in scorning, Looked down towards the grass. Sunflowers turned ne'er a peta’ To watch us saunter past: But at the garden’s gateway. When you were lost to view Among your tall battalions . . • I think the lilies knew. The Fabric of Life. BY MARY VAUGHAN. In the loom of live we weave each day On the warp of circumstance The colours grave and the colours gay, However the threads may chance. But the web is ours to make or mar, Ami the pattern we may choose: Wo make the fabric strong and fair, And blend as we will the hues. The glint of gold from our happy days May shine through the sombre shades, Aud love’s warm gleams, like the morning’s rays. Add beauty that never fades. When the Master Workman judge at last, May He find our weaving good, The texture tine and the colours fast, And His purpose understood. For a Guest Book. A book of guests! May it include The wise, the witty and the shrewd, Aud such as own the double art That makes them friend* of head and heart. May those who stand recorded here Grow dearer with each added year; Acquaintance into friendship grow And friendship ever brighter glow. Old friends are best, we lightly say, But, as they fall upon the way. Keep full the ranks with newer friends, Till Time the adjective amends. And if old friends still seem the I* -st, The adage should be thus expressed: Friends are not best because they're old, But old, because the years have rolled — The years that try ft nd mar and mend— Have proved them worth the title friend. Sun. I BY HENRY BOWE. Angel, king of streaming morn; Cherub, call'd by Heaven to *liine| T’ orient tread the waste forlorn; Guide aethereal, pow’r divine: Thou, Lord of all within! Golden spirit, lamp of day, Host that dips in blood the plain. Bids the crimson’d mead be gay, Blds the green bud burst the vein; Thou, I/Ord of all within! Soul, that wraps the globe in light; Spirit beckoning to arise;. Drives the frowning brow of night, Glorv bursting o’er the skies; Thou, I.ord of all within!