Selected Poetry

New Zealand Tablet, Volume LI, Issue 32, 30 July 1924, Page 51

Selected Poetry

WHEN YOU ARE OLD When you are old and gray and full of sleep, And nodding by the fire, take down this book, And slowly read, and dream of the soft look Your eyes had once, and of their shadows deep; How many loved your moments of glad grace, And loved your beauty with love false or true; But one man loved the pilgrim soul in you, And loved the sorrows of your changing face. And bending down beside the glowing bars Murmur, a little sadly, how love fled And paced upon the mountains overhead And hid his face amid a crowd of stars. v W. B. Yeats. LAMENT 'Tis here they say the journey ends And little doubt it must be so; But, as I tell my bestest friends, I bate to go. For eighty year I've went and come 'Long with the lowliest of the low; Yet, though the work-house be my home, I hate to go. 'Twas good to sit and turn, the news And hear of others' weal or woe; Even from the sick-ward's window views I hate to go. A parlous thought, the silent throng Who'll greet my bones in Beggar's Row, Bound up along, or down along, I hate to go. Eden Phillpotts, in the London Observer. OBERAMMERGAU Rich man, poor man, beggar-man, thief Over the hills' to the mountain folk, Doctor, lawyer, merchant, chief, Across the world they find their way; Christ will be crucified to-day. Christ will hang high and we are here, Villager, are there beds for us? Soup,and bread and a pot of beer? —Weary Gentile, Turk and Jew, Lord and peasant, Christian too. — Who called Sis Name? What was it spoke? Perhaps I dreamed. Then my walls dreamed! I saw them shaking as I woke. The dawn turned silver harps, and there The Star hung singing in the air. "Rich man, rich man, drawing near, Have you not heard of the needle's eye? Beggar, whom do you follow here? Did you give to/the poor as He bade you do? Proud sir, which of the thieves are you?" '•'Doctor, lawyer, whom do you seek? Do you succor the needy and ask no fee? Chief, will you turn the other cheek? '■=* Merchant, there is a story grim Of money-changers scourged by Him!" Leonora Speyer, in Current Opinion.

A POPLAR ON A WET NIGHT A poplar turns over its silver And counts it in the rain. For fear lest a bat should pilfer His wealth, he turns over his silver Again and again, With the moan of a miserly soul in pain. A poplar turns over his silver And counts it in the rain. —Honor F. Leeke, in Poetry Review. LONGSHORE Oh, I am tired to death of the drab wharf miles! I should like to sweep with the drift of the ebb to sea, Past all this rotting of ships moored to weedy piles. Give me a middled waste where the waves move free! Beaten gold on a thousand spires of flame, Petty voices that cry from an irritable heart, All of man's pent up restlessness, all of man's shame; I am sick of these, I would have gray space for my part! There is not a vehemence here that the sea has not known. All of this strife is a little thing to the sea's. What is longshore love to the sea's love for its own? Its nervous repose to the ocean's passion for ease? The floe is smudgy with dirt. The ferries squeal. There are grimy things our small moods can worship before. I'll have only one god who can bid me to kneel, I'll worship a manly god out of sight of the shore. Perhaps this is febrile unrest? Then unrest has spoken, Though inarticulately, at all petty things: Send me a wide gray space by dark land unbroken, A wild place where wet waves break and a-wet wind stings. Thomas Cat.drcot Chubb, in Scribnert.s. / * KITTIE'S toys I. wish I had a soldier, a soldier, a soldier, I wish I had a soldier, to fight for love of me. Marie has a soldier, a soldier, a soldier, Marie has a soldier, a gallant man is he. I wish I had a bright flag, a gay flag, a dear flag; I would love a fair flag to fly in liberty. Oh, Gretchen had a big flag, a brave flag, a strong flag, .--Gretchen had a fine flag that floated high and free. I wish I had a small ship, a strong ship, a good ship, . I would love a trim ship to sail upon the sea; Johnny has a big ship, a grey ship, a grand ship; Johnny took my small ship with all his big navee. I wish I had a penny, a penny, a penny, _ I wish I had a penny that all belonged to me; And I would build a "fair house, a great house, a strong house, I would make one grand house for all the world to see. But Johnny stole my penny, my penny, my penny, And Johnny took my' bright flag that floated fair and free. Then Johnny had my small ship, my trimmed ship, my good ship, And Johnny broke my soldier that fought for liberty. Now John would be my soldier, my soldier, my soldier, But John, he is a greedy boy, a selfish boy is he. And Johnny beats the small ones, the wee ones, the weak ones. He takes their playthings from them in the name of liberty. When Johnny gets a whacking, a whacking, a whacking, When Johnny gets a whacking, I think he'll let me be. - And I shall have my penny, my penny, my penny, And I shall buy a bright flag to wave in victory. Dora Sigerson, in the Irish World.