Selected Poetry

New Zealand Tablet, Volume LII, Issue 37, 30 September 1925, Page 32

Selected Poetry

CHEER UP!

Cheer up! The swallows soon you’ll see Beneath the eaves. You’ll hear the honey heel • , You peed not mourn that primroses are over; Now i spring is done we’ll have sweet summer’s clover. _ Tho cherry’s gone? Then here’s a yellow I; : plum ! And in the autumn you’ll have apples come. You dread the winter? Winter is not yet; And when it comes you'll smile without reA gret, Because you’ll see warm firelight on the rafter And high hung mistletoe; and hear low laughter. ■Flowers and the bee, and every bird a-wing

Have each their season —

You can always sing!

Bill Adams, in the London Magazine.

XX PAST AND PRESENT. True love, remembered yet through all that mist of years, Clung to with such vain, vain love —wept > with such vain tears —

On the turf I sat last night, where we two sat of yore,

And thought of thee till memory could bear to think no more.

The twilight of the young year was fading soft and dim ;

The branches of the budding trees fell o'er the water's brim;

And the stars came forth in lonely light through all the silent skies; I scarce could see them long ago, with look-

ing in thine eyes.

For oh! thou wert my starlight, my refuge, and my home;

My spirit found its rest in thee, and never sought to roam ;

All thoughts and all sensations that burn and thrill me through,

In those first days of happy love were calmed and soothed by you.

How wise thou wert—how tender— ah! but . it seemed to be

Some glorious guardian angel that walked this earth- with me;

And now, though hope be over, and love too much in vain,

What marvel if my weary heart finds naught like thee again ?

Beloved, when thou wert near me, the happy .; and the right Were mingled in one gentle dream of ever

fresh delight;

But; now the path, of duty seems cold and "dark to tread,

.Without one radiant guide-star to light me -overhead. v

If there were aught my faith in thee to darken or remove —

One memory of unkindness—one chilling want of love! —

But no—thy heart still clings to me as fondly, warmly true, As mine, through chance, and change, and

time, must ever cling to you.

If thou were aught to shrink from—to blush

with sudden shame

That he who won the beating heart the lips

must fear to name!

But oh! before the whole wide world how

proudly would I say: "He reigned my king long years ago—he

reigns my king to-day."

And so I turn to seek thee through all the

mist of years, And'love with vain devotion, and weep with

vainer tears;

And on the turf I sit alone, where we two

sat of yore,

And think of thee till memory can bear to think no more.

'Mary'' of the Nation, in Irish Headings.

XX TREASURE-TROVE. There’s a letter come this minute From across the boundin’ sea,

And it has a treasure in it That delights the soul of me

Not a shinin' bit o' gold Does this blessed letther hold,

But a priceless gem as ancient as the world is old.

'Tis nieself, to-morrow mornin' Will be proud to let ye see

This most precious gem adornin Of the Sunday hat of me.

Tis a little sprig o’ green Of the sort I've often seen My grandfather wcarin’ in his mild caubeen. Then here’s to the trefoil, An’ may it grow in a free soil That knows not the dominion of a Saxon

King or Queen

The Shamrock of old Erin! That the patriot's still weann'

Where the whole world may see it, in his ould caubee i.

T. A. Daly, in Canto

XX THE GOLDEN GOD. The golden God! He sits upon his throne! The many millions worship at his feet,

And he, alone to them, all gods in one, Controls their minds and hearts through

self-conceit.

To him they come like helpless, whimp'ring

slaves Would drag their souls if need be in the mire For that which he could give if he would give— The riches that their selfish hearts desire!

Love, honor, morals—these they cast away ' Ami grasp with greedy hands the bur-

. nished gold. •' . \ { Where are those golden virtues fools are'

they!

They boast that they are rich! What have they sold?

Rich is the man, indeed, who earns his bread In honest toil by giving work for wage.

To him the richest thing in life is love— Yielding to him a harvest in old age! What bondage could be greater than those chains That bind a man in slavery to his lust? The golden god may have his sway awhile But he in turn shall crumble into dust! —Catherine Elizabeth Hanson, in the

Irish World.

ROSES.

Last night, against the wall of the moon, I heard a crowd of roses speak—

If you will listen at the lips of June, Oh, you will hear what the roses seek,

For spring comes late, but summer soon, And a red rose lives for a lover's cheek.

"Pwas under the roof of tho radiant moon I heard a white rose softly sing

A strange, wild song with a ghostly tune, Of a girl's white feet gone wandering.

For never a white rose weaves a rune, But the ear of a dead girl's listening.

Though spring come late, and summer soon, And June make summer’s gift complete, The life of a rose is sadly fleet, rAnd fleet are the dancing feet of June. If you will listen when the wind is sweet, You’ll hear the roses speak to the moon. —Corson Miller, in the Commonweal

(New York).

SEA WISDOM. What do I know about the sea? First, let mo tell you this: Tho edges of the very sky Accept tho last wave’s kiss.

What do I know about the sea That lies beyond the slip? Why, greater than to walk with kings Is the sea's fellowship.

What do I know about the sea? I know that in the storm • True sailors rise to doughty deeds That heroes' selves perform.

Oh, I went down to sea in ships, And there my soul did find Despite rough speech and rougher ways, That God's great hand was kind.

The sea is strong, the sea is deep, y >,| Its waves are wide to scan— Oh, I went down to sea, a fool! The sea made me a man I j Harry Kemp, in the Saturday Evening Post '(New York).