Selected Poetry

New Zealand Tablet, Volume XLVIII, Issue 45, 15 November 1923, Page 28

Se le c ted Poetry

Tua Marina ' . . ,- (For the ' N.Z. : Tablet Though ' all my heart is in - this windy city With its street corners and its masts and mills, ten I wonder has any of its dwellers ; Seen the rangiora on the southern ‘ hills. Who here has seen upon the road to Para, Five tuis singing on a bough at noon; Who here has heard the, wind among the raupo, As I have heard it by the old lagoon? Who here recalls how, in the wet Septembers, Snows on Mt. Arnaud sent the great floods down, Or' how the men with lanterns watched the Wairau, Wading like otters- in its waters brown? . Who here would know that by the small blind river Every loud tussock roofs a quiet lark, Who here would care that in Brunotti’s orchard Blithe buds are horning through the bitter bark No one here knows, or knowing would remember, Nor would I remember if they let me be, For she is dead— lightly, clods, upon her, Who in our childhood knew these things with me? - , • - ■ —Eileen Duggan. «F Take A Chance I have little love for the man who goes Through life in the rut of a daily grind; Who follows a pathway left by those Who carved.a way where he trails behind; The man who dreams of success afar, s But fears the odds in the sporting game Of hitching his waggon to a star And taking a chance on a wider fame. Take a chance ! It will make you or break you ; Take a chance! Face it out with a smile, And though to defeat it may take you, You’ll find that the sport is worth while, You can’t know your strength till you try it In a fight with malign circumstance, You won’t reach the top or come nigh it, Till you heed that refraintake a chance! Take a chance ! Mistress fortune is fickle, But "a sportman’s the man for her eye, - Back the game with your loneliest nickel, Go your hardest never say die! .You may los&—but it’s fun every minute. If your blood has one drop of romance; The game’s worth just what you put in it; Make it big—just by taking a chance. Ted Olson, in Forbes’ Magazine. : V - Lookin’ for News “It’s time ye wor married,” says she to me, “For the years are slippin’ by, An’ it isn’t younger ye’er gettin’,” says she. “I know if meself,” says I. s " “Ye have the wee house an’ the lan’,” says she, “An’ a brave wee fortune for bye. Ye ought till be able till get a man.” “I know it meself,” says I, ' “The lads all are willin’ enough,” says she, “But they tell me ye pass them by.' SowVb'ut ye be’t to be hard till plaze.” “I know it meself,” says I.

“I see ye there in the chapel yard, ? Wi’ yer head held quare’n high, Steppin’ along like a queen,” says she. “I know it meself,” says I. “They say there’s a lad on the hill beyant; An’ on him ye’ve set yer eye,” ~ Dear knows,” says she, “thon’s no match for you.” “I know it meself,”-says I. > “Ye wouldn’t be mad for till look at Him; It’s surely,” says she, “a lie. But wan couldn’t be up till the leeks of you.” “I know it meself,” says I. Nora Ni Chathain, in the Irish World? . V Just Walking and Talking Around me, about me, Yet always without me, The crowd trips a measure In pleasure’s parade: The lamps glitter brightly And ladies laugh lightly, But I, I am lonely For only a maid — It’s oh, for the highways, The broad ways, the by ways, The sun on the meadow, The shadow, the song, v And I and my Mary, The beauty, the fairy, Just walking, and talking, And walking along! No carpets, like grasses, My lads and my lasses; No song like the singing, .._A-winging above; - _ No red like the roses The roadside discloses ; No blue like the blue sky. The true sky, of love; No gold like the sunlight, No silver like moonlight, No gem like the starlight -• The far light—and then Just I and my Mary, The gentle, the airy, Just walking, and talking, And walking again. I ask not for castle, Nor servant, nor vassal; I ask not for riches The ditches will do. Whatever the weather, If only together The world we may wander Out yonder, we two. For heaven grows nearer As Mary grows dearer, . The load ever lighter, And brighter the day; And heaven, we’ll find it, God’s glory behind it, Just walking, and talking, And walking the way ! , . —Douglas Malloch.