Verse Old and New

New Zealand Graphic, Volume XXXIX, Issue 25, 21 December 1907, Page 34

Verse Old and New

Pit* port. Look, love, how far beyond the cryptic mist That swirls about the vocables I use And well-nigh fructifies my sterile muse To fancy something lurking in the list Of sounds 1 mix in vapours amethyst—■ Look how beyond the words 1 vaguely Whereof I may voluminously choose —■ The purport flutters, where thou dost not wist! And then a glimmer trembles through t he cloud! Thou think’st to capture of it one clear ray; Thv challenged thought, no more confused and cowed By verbalism leading sense astray. Has through the fog to this intention ploughed: Tin fool stull has no meaning, anyway! —George Jay. © © © The Village Blacksmith. Under a spreading chestnut tree The village smithy stands. The smith, a mighty man is he . . . Now prepared to meet demands For prompt repairs to auto cranks. Magnetos, sparkers, chains, hoods, tanks; New parts for every known machine; Full stock oil. graphic, carbide, gasoline— . . And the muscles of his brawny arms Are strong as iron bands. His hair is crisp, and black, and long. His face is like the tan: His brow is wet with honest sweat, lie earns what’er he can . . . Vulcanizing. riveting, brazing, repairing Of radiator, clutch, cylinder, bearing: Inner tubes for sale, cement, patches, tires. Battery cells, spark-plugs, coils, . . And looks the whole world in ihe face. For he owes not any man. Toiling rejoicing—sorrowing. Onward through life he goes: Each morning sees some task begin, Each evening sees it close Tires recovered, relined, retreaded: sectional and tube patching; aluminum brazing; repairs to radiators, mud-guards, sprocketcones; overhauling and adjustment of (very description: on hand day. night and Sundays (residence, third house to right, behind school-house) ; prices reasonable: all work guaranteed; patronage of autoniobilistv reap, invited . . . Something attempted, something done, Has earned a night’s repose. HENRY W. HONKFELLOW. © © © Affinities. When Ben jamin wed Annie, oh! I hi y both were kindly fated; It Bennie-tited him. you know. \\ hile she was Annie-mated. d © © Harmless. She often wrung men’s bosoms in a careless sort nf way. Yet -he wa-n’t what you’d call the word of flirt**. But .tn humble woi king-woman doing washrng. day by day, In a laundry where she had to wring men’s shirts.

The (Modem) Cow. The friendly cow with eoat of silk I love —and so I ought; She gives me sterilised fresh milk At sixteen cents per quart. They take her temperature with care And test her milk to see That the per cent, of each thing there Is just what it should be. In antiseptic stall she dwells. Is bathed and groomed each day, Drinks only from artesian wells And eats inspected hay. © © ® Three Authors. Prolific authors, noble three, 1 do my chapeau off to ye. ‘‘Selected", dear old chap, who knows The quantity of verse, and prose That you h: rve signed in all these years! You’ve dulled how many thousand shears! You've filled, at a tremendous rate, A million miles of “boiler plate”— A wreath of laurel for your brow! A stirrup-cup to you—here’s how! And you, dear “Ibid.” Ah. you wrote Too many things for me to quote, Though Bartlett, of quotation fame, Plays up your unpoetic name More than he did to Avon's , bard. Your stuff’s on every page, old pa rd. Bouquets to you the writer Hings; You wrote a lot of dandy things. And you, O last, 0 greatest one, A word with you, and I have done. You, dear “Exchange", that ever floats Around with verses, anecdotes, And jokes. Oh. what a lot you sign (Quite frequently a thing of mine). Why. it would not be very strange If I should see this signed—“ Exchange”. 0 favourite authors, wondrous three 1 do my chapeau off to ye! — FRANKLIN P. ADAMS, in the “Century.” © © © Out at Sea. Unnumbered waves and unshadowed light I Limitless glory, that fades to sight With the dusk, and the stai-inspired night! Through circles of light and dark she slips UnGer the archways of dawn she dips, The one most precious of all the ships. Whelmed in azure, ’twixt gulf and space. She holds in her narrow housing-place little world, with its life and grace— A pearl held loosely in God's strong ha nd— A sphere whose coarse is at His command — Alone with Him. till she find the land. My soul is drawn in her gleaming trail; With her 1 harbour—with her I fail. O ship most precious of all that sail! I know no life, and I find no light, ; Save in the track of wave-bound Hight— I feel her strain to the winds at night! For there, in her narrow housing-place. Is held a while between gulf and space The one whose soul is my star ot grace. —Ry Marion Couthouy Smith. © © © How She Took His Proposal. I U-gged Marie to smile on me. For I with love was daft. She »mded! She more than smiled, lor .-hr Just held her sides and laugh.d.