POETS’ CORNER.

Gisborne Times, Volume XXVII, Issue 2682, 11 December 1909, Page 1 (Supplement)

POETS’ CORNER.

THE RECALL

I am the land of their fathers, In me the virtue stays : I will bring back my children After certain days. Under their feet in the grasses ily clinging magic runs. They shall return as strangers, They shall return as sons. Over tlieir heads in the branches Of their new-bought- ancient trees I weave an incantation And draw them to my 'knees. Scent of smoke in the evening, Smell of rain in the night, The hours, the days, and the seasons. Order their souls aright; Till I make plain the meaning Of all my thousand years— Till I fill their hearts with knowledge, While I fill their eyes with tears. —Rudyard Kipling, in "Actions and Reactions.” DAWN. When the dawn has broken, While the pale stars linger yet Sweet is the sleep of the woodland Beneath its coverlet. And when the fresh air stirs it, And changes the mist to dew I’ll sent in the wind a whisper To you, my love, to you. And long before you’re waking ’Twill nestle in your ear, To make you feel, unknowing, That loVe is very near. And all the day that follows, If the little wind serves me true, You shall be glad for everything, As I am glad of you. A. Hugh Fisher, in “St. James Budget.” HER HERO. [Mv Bleriot, who has been a nuisance to his wife for eight years, is now her hero.] . y Hope eternal springs, As the poet sings; Let despair Chill you ne’er. Ye who fashion wings; Rise majestic O’er domestic Wrath and bickerings! I, aspiring bard, Knowing the way is hard Soaring rhymes Wreck at times Conjugal regard; Oft my dearest Flings the nearest Poems where they’re' charred. ; ' Yet I work and wait,. Grudging not the grate, Seven years Toil and tears I can calculate; With my laurels Turn our quarrels Into joy in eight? _ ; A.W.