Verse Old and New.
Fairy Days. z<~\ ESI DE the old hall-lire—upon I'w niy nurse’s knee, I \ Of happy fairy days—what tales \. J were told to me! I thought the world was onee —all peopled with princesses, And my heart would beat to hear—their loves ami their distresses; • And many a quiet night in slumber sweet and deep, The pretty fairy people would visit mo in sleep. I saw them in my dreams —eome Hying east and west, With wondrous fairy gifts the newborn babe they biess’d; One has brought a jewel amt one a erown of gold, And one has brought a eurse but she is wrinkled ami old. I'ho gentle queen turns pale to hear tliose words of sin, But the king he only laughs and bids the dance begin. > The babe has grown to be the fairest of the land, Ami rides the forest green—a Ira wk upon her. hand, An ambling palfrey white- a golden robe and erown; I've seen her in my dreams—riding up and down; And. heard the ogre laugh a.s she fell into his snare, At the tender little creature who wept and tore her hair! But ever when it seemed- her m ed was at the sorest, A prinee in shining mail —comes prancing through the forest, A waving ostrich plume—a buckler burnished bright; I've seen him in my dreams —-good sooth! a gallant knight.
His lips are coral red, beneath a dark moustache; See how he waves his hand and how his blue eyes Hash! "Come forth, thou Paynim knight!”— he shouts in accents clear. The giant and the maid both tremble his voice to hear. Saint Mary guard him well! he draws his falchion keen, The giant and the knight -are lighting on the green. I see them in my dreams bis blade give stroke on stroke, The giant pants and reels -ami tumbles like an oak ! With what a. blushing grace he falls upon his knee And takes the lady's band and whispers, “You are free!” Ah! happy childish tales of knight and faerie! I waken from my dreams -but there’s ne'er a knight for me; I waken from my dreams ami wish that 1 could be A child by. the obi hall-lire upon my nurse’s knee! —\V. M. Thackeray. <5 © © Terpsichore. In far-off days, when the world was young. Fair mail!, ere your praises rich wore sung, Did you take your art from the bending grass That dips and lifts as the light winds pass? Did you copy the grace of a swaying bough? Did a pensile leaflet teach you how To dance and swing with the world atinie? Terpsichore, did yon learn of June? —A'lara Odell Lyons.
New National Hymn. Hail, Freedom! thy bright erect And gleaming shield, thriee blest. Mirror the glories of a world thine own. Hail, heaven-born Peace! our sight Led by thy gentle light, Shows us the path with deathless Howers strewn. Peace, daughter of a strife sublime, Abide with us till strife be lost in endless time. Thy sun is risen, ami shall not set, Upon thy day divine; Ages, of unborn ages, yet America, are thine. Her one band seals with gold The portals of night’s fold, Her other, the broad gates of dawn unbars; O'er silent wastes of snows, Crowning her lofty brows, Gleams high her diadem of northern stars; While, clothed in garlands of warm Howers, Round Freedom’s feet the South her wealth of beauty showers. Sweet is the toil of piaee, Sweet is the year's increase, I'o loyal men who live by’ Freedom's laws; Ami in war's fierce alarms God gives stout hearts and arms To freemen sworn to have a. rightful cause. Fear none, trust God, maintain the right, And triumph in unbroken Uuion'u might. Welded in war’s fierce Itanie, Forged on the hearth of fame, The sacred Constitution was ordained; Tried in the file of time, 'Tempered in woes sublime, An age was passed and left it yet unstained. God grant its glories still may shine, While ages fade, forgotten, in time's slow decline! Honour the few who shared Freedom's first light, and dared I'o face war's desperate tide at the full Hood; Who fell on hard-won ground. And into Freedom’s wound
IVured the sweet balsam of their brave heart's blood. They fell; but o'er-that glorious grave Floats free the banner of the eaust they died to save. In radiance heavenly fair, floats on the peaceful air That Hag that never stooped from victory's pride; Those stars that softly gleam, 'Those stripes that o'er us stream,* In war's grand agony were sanctified; A holy standard, pure ami free. To light the home of peace, or blaze In victory. Father, whose mighty power Shields us through life's short hour, To Thee we pray Bless ns and keep us free: All that is past forgive; Teach us, henceforth, to live, That, through our country, we may honour Thee; And, whin this mortal life shall cease, lake Thou, at last, our souls to Thine eternal peace. Francis Marion Crawford. © ® ® Madness. The lonely farm, the crowded street. The palace and the slum Give welcome to my silent feet As, bearing gifts, I conic, lalst night a beggar erouehisl alone, A ragged helpless thing. I set him on a nioonlwam throne, To-day he is a king. Last night a king with orb and crown Held court in splendid cheer. To day ho tears his purple gown And moans and shrieks in fear. Not iron bars nor Hashing spears Nor land nor' sky nor sea, Nor Love's artillery, of tears t'an keep mine own from me. The old gods fade, the young god- ri-e And rule their little day, Ami where the dead Apollo lies Can Christ or Hudd'lia say? Serene, unchanging, ever fair, I smile with secret mirth. And in a net of mine own hair I swing the captive earth. Joyce Kilmer.
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Bibliographic details
New Zealand Graphic, Volume XLVIII, Issue 9, 28 August 1912, Page 71
Word Count
982Verse Old and New. New Zealand Graphic, Volume XLVIII, Issue 9, 28 August 1912, Page 71
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Acknowledgements
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