Verse Old and New.

New Zealand Graphic, Volume XLVII, Issue 20, 15 May 1912, Page 71

Verse Old and New.

JMiilomela. ▼ SARK! ah, the nightingale! The tawny-throated! 1 f Hark! from the moonlight / cedar what a burst! What triumph! hark —what pain! O Wanderer from a Grecian shore, Still, after many years in distant lands, Still nourishing in thy bewilder'd brain That wild, nnqueneh'd, deep-sunken, OhlWorld pain— Say, will it never heal? And can this fragrant lawn With its cool trees, and And the sweet, tranquil Thames, And moonshine and the Mew, To thy rack'd heart and brain Alford no balm? Doet thou to-night behold Here, through the moonlight on this English gras's. The unfriendly palace in the Thracian wild? Dost, thou, again peruse With- hot cheeks and sear'd.eyes The too clear' web, and thy dumb sister's shame-? - Dost thou, once more assay Thy flight and feel come over.thee. Poor Fugitive, the feathery change Once more anil onee seem to make resound With'love and hate, triumph and agony, Lone c Daulis.. and the high Ce'phiesian vale?.-v . L " ' Listen., Eugeniat . How thick the'bursts come crowding through the leaves! Again—thou hearest! Eternal Passion! , ,7 Eternal Pain! ’ Arnold. © © © Off Crozon. ! The spire of old St, Malo makes a bea- . . eon true and brave. Where round the, granite islets foams the angry ..Breton wave;

Fair over lovely Dinan is St. Sauveur’s shadow cast, Where Du Guesclm’a fiery heart is laid in peaceful rest at last. At Constances, and at quiet Doi, the great cathedral towers Speak still, in solemn beauty, of a holier age than ours; And, wonder for all time and tide, the glory of the land. St. AlichaeFs shrine still crowns the rock that reigns o’er sea and sand. Yet where the huts of Crozon vouch upon the rock-girt coast. A nobler temple than them all it is for her to boast. When with silenced rite and darkened lamp, each threatened altar stood, And from Loire to Rance the “Terror*’ drowned all fair Bretagne in blood. Through whispering woods, by wild cliff paths, from town and chateau came Proscribed “suspect” and fugitive, priest, jjoble. peasant, dame; Silent on Crozon's rocks and beach, gazing where, like a star. O’er the dim heaving leagues of sea a light gleamed faint and far. With lowered sails and muffled oars, upon the rising tide. The boats went gliding from the shore, that lig’nt their steady guide: Where-, driven from desecrated shrines, at midnight’* solemn, hour. For her true children Holy Church could still put forth her power. €abn on the calm sea the bark: calm rose the altar there: For votive, lamp, the crescent moon: for music, through the air Thrilled ever oeean’-s ceaseless chime: while rustling shroud ami sheet, The '-oft winds to the chanted prayer made answer low ami sweet. There came the babe for baptism; there knelt the bride to wed; There over the uncollined corpse the funeral rite was said; And the soul of fearless faith arose in the imploring cry. As ‘neath the dome no man had built tin* Host was raised on high.

Lingering where up the glittering bay sweeps the tong creMiung -a well, The pious Breton willingly will stay this tale to tell. And grander Temple of the Cross on earth will never be, Than the ship that through the “Terror” lay off Crozon on the sea. —Anon. © © My Cavalier—A.D. 1662. Come, tune my lute for a happy song. And clash the chords full loud and clear, ~ For a paean of right our canting wrong, And a merry lay for my cavalier. The poor, dumb thing has said never a word Since the day when iny hero went ‘bold down To shout his cry and to flash his sword, And rally tor England’s laws ami crown. ’Neath the white-plumed hat his lovelocks danced With the summer sough as he rode in gear Dr glinting mail, ami the sunlight glam rd On the Spanish blade of my cavalier. My love-knots, twined in his mane. Fluttered ami waved in the sighing breeze, As i saw them trample the bossed ra mpaigH. And shimmer among the linden-trees. At Cromwell breach he led the way. And the rebel roundheads ran like Nor vared to bide or strive to stay The lightning charge of my cavalier. (In Stafford Hill the Spanish steel Ensanguined, gapped fell t reason'd •brood. Ami by his stout right arm and leal The sward with rebel corpses strewed. At Roumlaway Down he charged away, Ami scythed their ranks with a ringing cheer; Rushing where hottest waged the fray, "For my king ami love,*’ saith my cavalier.

“Marry! small sorrow have 1 for their dead: Could all hi* enomii* perish so;'’ Am the praying warriors darkly fled. And psalm tune died in a shriek of woe. So I tune my lute for a happy song. Ami I clash the chords 'Hill loud and clear, And I sit lor a summer’s whole day long Harping my peerl»‘ss cavalier. —H. A. Ilarcfoot. ’ Triumph. The dawn came in through the bars o* the blind — And the winter’s dawn is gray - Ami said: However you cheat \om mind The hours are Hying away. A ghost of a dawn, and pale and weak — Has the sun a heart, I said, To throw a morning flush on the cheek Whence a faiier Hush has lied? As a g»ay lose leaf that is lading white Was the cheek where I set'my kiss; .And on that si«h- of the bed all night Death had waL-liod, ami I on th:*. 1 kissed her lip-, they were hull apart, Yet they made no'answering sign ; Death’s hand was on her failing lieart. Ami his eyes said: She is mine. I.sol my lips on the bine veined lid. Half-veiled by her death-damp hair; And oh, for the violet depths it hid, And the light I longed lor there! Faint day and the fainter life awoke, And tl«e . life wa* overpast ; And 1 said: I’hongh never in life you spoke, Ob, speak with a look at last! For the space of a heart beat fluttered her breath, As a bird’s*wing spread to flee; She turned h< r weary arms to l)»-alh, And the light of her eyes to me. > —II. Bunm r.