POETS’ CORNER.

Gisborne Times, Volume XXVII, Issue 2657, 12 November 1909, Page 1 (Supplement)

POETS’ CORNER.

BY THE SEA

Last night a hand on my window tapped > A voice came out of the sea, “Awake, awake, thou dreamer awake, And open thy door to me!”

What music this that so long was still, What hand that I thought was cold? “Come in, sweet- ghost, from they lonely bed, For my longing hands to hold.”

I freed my door from lxdt and bar, And the slow tears came to me, For I heard no sound, save the tapping rain And the moan, of the rising sea. —DORA SIGERSOX SHORTER, in “Windsor Magazine.” FAME. He fell in love with Fame And sought her smile lor years; But she ignored his claim Though it was made with tears. He toiled both day and night, Yet scarce could make his bread; At last one morning bright Revealed him lying dead. Then did the trumpet- Fame Fly quickly to his side. And calling loud his name. Bewail the death he died! —J. L. M.. in “Daily Chronicle.”

LIFE’S MIRACLE. The trees are waking up. I see, And putting on' their finery: No group of girls could gayer be —

Arrayed in green and pink and white, And knowing that they are all right As they come forth at morning light.

And so I think the trees must know That now they make a special show, — They hold themselves as if ’twere so.

A balmy sweetness fills the air, As trees and flowers every where Give forth their fragrance, rich and rare.

So every year as spring comes round This miracle of life is found, A song in colors, not in sound. —JOHN E. HURLBUT, in “Springfield

Republican

TWENTY-ONE

A REVERIE

I dreamt there rose in sight once more, Sweet twenty-one; its fields and sky. And amidst its bowers- and joys galore There were but two, just she and I. With souls untrammelled, fancy free, We rushed each bliss that came in sight; Flew through the world, past land and sea, To roach all sources cf delight ; And with our mad and boist’rous mirth Made a huge playground of the earth — But- now, clasp hands—at- eighty-one Life nears the end. The only joy Is, that midst darkness ana so little sun. We kept the path of honor from alloy. Now darkness flies; the harvest has begun. To risk this sequel—who'd be twentyone? Wm. Langdon. Yorkshire “Post.” AS IT V APPEARS TO A PEER. (In “The Bulletin.’") If a tariff was to be the only alternative (to the Budget- proposals), he would cease to defend the principles ot Freetrado. —Rosebery’s cabled speech. What horrible threat is this, me L-ud, That falls with a dull and sickening thud On the ears of the English nation? How it must tremble in dire alarm, To learn that the aristocratic arm You Aung round the principle of Freetrade, You will withdraw if you can’t evade The Budget’s dire taxation!

And it—the Nation? What WILL it do When, thanks to the efforts of men like you, . Its industries are protected? Will it cast its dull and hopeless eyes, Up to the leaden, commercial slues. And shriek from the depths of a numb despair. For the glorious “cheap-loaf days that were , . , , 0 Ere Freetrado was rejected?

"Will it curse Lloyd George and his Budget Bill, As having worked a tremendous ill. In causing your disaffection? . Or will it (as haply it may, me Lud), When Protection has carried the day, me Lud, Awake to sav, as it doubtless will, “The Budget was great, but greater still ... Is the principle of Protection! —Sine. S. Clark. Maoriland.