THE LANES OF LANDEWEDNAOK.

New Zealand Tablet, 4 March 1920, Page 9

THE LANES OF LANDEWEDNAOK.

Grey gloom the roofs through the grey smoke swirling; Grey looms over a grey slit of sky. Groans of the labor of fierce wheels whirling Rumble through the window as the hosts go by. But the lanes of Landewednack, how they blossom in the spring! How the young birds chatter and the big birds sing! How the branches whisper where the strong trees swing In the lanes of. Landewednack by the sea. Bald lie the streets where a bleak wind blowing Drives on the dust in a choking cloud Over the Life tides, ebbing and flowing, Haunted by cries of the broken and bowed. But the lanes of Landewednack they are fresh and fair; How the flowers ring carillon on the scented air! And my heart goes out in longing for the treasures rare In the lanes of Landewednack by the sea. Pain printed scars mar the pale sad faces Of toil-worn men and women wan with woe, Bearing the phantoms of former graces— Ghosts of a beauty of long ago. But in lanes of Landewednack there’s a song bespeaks Happiness to whosoever sweet rest seeks, For Beauty blossoms roses on the children’s cheeks In the lanes of Landewednack by the sea. —Bernard Moore, in the New Witness.