Selected Poetry

New Zealand Tablet, 29 December 1921, Page 24

Selected Poetry

. Home Bound The moon is a wavering rim where one fish slips, The water makes a quietness of sound; Night is an anchoring of many ships Home-bound. " ' ■ * There are strange tunnelers in the dark, and whirs Of wings that die, and hairy spiders spin The silence into nets, and tenanters Move softly in. I step on shadows riding through the grass, And feel the night lean cool against my face; And challenged by the sentinel of space, I pass. —Joseph Auslander, in Current Opinion. V In the Tender Irish Weather Oh! the calm, brown mountain and the endless miles of • heather, And the rugged, grave horizon where the white clouds roll; And my. cheek aghinst the soft cheek ‘of the tender Irish , weather, And in all the space around me not a —not a soul ! There the skylark and the blackbird and the linnet sing ■:> together, With ne’er a one to still them nor human voice to speak Oh! ’tis long since I have lulled me in the tender Irish weather, And my heart is hot within me for the touch of her cheek! But they say that on the mountain where I’ve lain among the heather, With the plover’s note a-mourning thro’ the haze of blue, That the cold and dead are lying in the soft cheeked Irish weather. And oh! my heart is breaking for the mountain that I knew 1 —Lillian Middleton, in the New York Times. * A Lover Since Childhood i Tangled in thought am I, Stumble in speech do I? Do I blunder and blush for the reason why? Wander aloof do I, Lean over gates and sigh, Making friends with the bee and butterfly. If thus and thus I do, Dazed by the thought of you, , Walking my sorrowful way in the early dew, I My heart cut through and through : •• In this despair of you, Starved for a word or a look will my hope renew, Give then a thought for me % \ • - Walking so miserably, ; ; . Wanting relief in the friendship of flower or tree, .

Do but remember, we , - ’ Once could in love agree, - * . , ' , Swallow your pride, let us be as : we used to be. Robert Graves, in the London Mercury. -V: ▼ '• * . No Compromise What! come ye at the eleventh hour? . You trembling for your shaking power • You Wolf, that would our Lind devour , "■ • If you were strong, But now God’s wrath is out at last, But now your day is slipping past, Afar the thunder bolt is cast Oh, fierce sweet song! And now comes retribution fast ’Twas prayed for long. And now you offer terms of peace, You see the clouds above increase, You cannot make the thunders cease Your sun has set. But still you makp a show of state To prove your condescension great But, oh! remember we. can wait A little yet; And why you condescend thus late We don’t forget. Remember in our bitter woe, As we did feel it lying low That all the world our shame did know Our cup was full. God! all the agony of shame! It scorched us more than any flame For, oh, some souls were still untame! Not dead nor dull. But you, you ever were the same Unpitiful. But now, but now the hour is changed, ; Your foes against you all are ranged, Your frown is for a smile exchanged, You speak of 'peace. But we can read behind a part You fain would hide your trembling heart Oh! is it strange fierce joy should start? ’Tis our release. While all wild terrors thro’ you dart ; Our hopes increase. • And now ’tis fitter we should write The terms of peace; we dread no might; You’ve spent your strength; you made the fight, You have,not won. Take hence your weak half measures now, • When strong, (3iir hearts you could not cow. Then to the inevitable bow Your race is run. Behold us—read it on each brow Your day is done. 1 So take our terms, youTl find them well, God guarded us what e’er befell . And now our hearts can even quell What vengeance cries. ■. .. ' We will not reckon tears and blood,, tGod! could we count all if we would P.vC,-.’. ■ f v ■ < But THIS, THIS must be understood■ *.• . - Our flag here flics. .•. , ; -..i. * • i/* Your power entire ends, ends for good. -- :• ‘ * NO COMPROMISE I ■ . , —Terence McSweeney, in the Irish- World. ' *