VERSES OLD AND NEW.

Dominion, Volume 3, Issue 781, 2 April 1910, Page 9

VERSES OLD AND NEW.

•CALL ME NOT DEAD. Call' me not dead when I, indeed, have • gone Into the company of the everliving . ;,High , and mostVglorious.,poets! Let' thanksgiving '■'• - Sather bo made. Say: "He at. last hath ; . won ■. .... ■-.'• . Hest :and release;, converse ; supfeme and wise, . 'i... " Mtisic and song and light of inlmortal'; . ; ,a ; faces; . ; I;.:.. J'' To-day,' porhaps, 'wandering in. starry places, " i' r He hath met' Keats, arid known him; by his: eyes.. ■" ; 0i (To-morrow (who can say?) shakespcare •' may pass, - / : ' yr- ■ And our lost friend just '-catch' one syllable '••" '-' Of that three-ccnturied wit that kept i so well; -'.a•; /Or Milton; or Dante, looking on Jhe '•• grass, . ... : /Thinking of Beatrice, and listening, still 'To chanted hymns that sound from the . heavenly hilL" > >> A SONG OP EIVEES. '• . 1 Rights upon the yellow, Tiber are too . .beautiful to te11,..'; ' ' V 1 ' But the'ancient 1 dead Emperors loved them well.;: IBim Cathedral .lights . at. evening flash . .from"sail the hills.of Eome. . •'He's a. stately river,' Tiber, There's a ' better stream at home. Fierce by''vineyards and by castles, in, a fury flows tho Jthine, • '■And he sets the blood a-pulsing like a ' . . draughtoof'gallant : :wine. . ..' Xoud his road'"'through..quiet cities, m'a ; rage he seeks tho sea, ' And the peasants mourn his plunder. There's a-finer stream for me. ' ■ -; • Still tho -Douro makes, a music that it . made for' Moors in Spain, / . Of the wind in highland valleys, and the wrath of winter rain: Music'fit. for knights in' armour, when : ij . tho valiant trumpets call. ; But I".yearn to -hear tho murmur of an . . English waterfall. .' ■ ' : V V ; ' :' There's a- torrent. in Albania, "where the faint ;,'red garnets glow ■;. 'Through tho feud of waters, like the ghosts, of blood' shedlong ago.. . Women wail, by those sad waters for. the ' sorrows that'are.; there, . J.: '-' : ■ And' the l oak-trees mourn ,;for ;eyer' over drooping maidenhair. . ■ 0 tho!moonlit Seine is silver, and :-I; know not what she. sings, ' But'.her song,is surely, haunted-by .the. , 'sweep of. white swans', wings. - Like'-'a sword she cleaves the night,•;and ' carries " memories to the .sea, Frosted , gowns,-, and nobles courting, and a great King's revelry. There, are-, streams that are not waters. -The .Italian fishers know ' . : - How the dolphins thread- with silver tracks tho wistful afterglow, ' . Glades that . cut a tangled forest, tides ,'that.sever seas asleep, o'it's loved they are 'by cavaliers and tho sailors of the deep. .. There's a; pathway • to -. the : sunset ■ shines . across a sea I love, • , .There's.---.the Milky Way of Heaven that - the angels ford above, .- .- --. :■ There's a pageant on the wheatfieldnyhen,'. 'the. shadows flung/aside, ■ v.* =- ■ .' ; Morning/lights a : lane of poppies in a "... narrow, scarlet tide. ■ ■ By . old sluices, . weirs and channels, and .deserted'torrent ways,' By processions and-their incense, like a ; » . scented summer - haze, By the lovely lakes ; of,_lilies,..where the ■. ■ fairy woodlands are,' By th« lisht that rends the heavens at the falling of a star, By .the: Bosphorus. and all Pagan - st]sai%;. and' Prank. " ' l!y the dog-rose and:the. myrtle, and the ; wild flowers on Jheir bank.' '. ~.. By .the_ Snring. song"'of. the. rivers; when . .their life is treasured."'snow,. By the waterfalls;; of all the world,'" my' . -'stream's'.- the 'best I know! Tou; s.hall pne daV see my river where-the pines and.willows meet, . Find a shallow filled with' suniight, let it :sparkle round yonr feet. ' . When .I; watch your face reflected in • the 'stillness of a pool, . .j : I shall call my river'- still more dear, 0 . '.-you' most beautiful. . ~ -vj . —Ben' ICendim, .'in the "Spectator/' BALLAD FOE GLOOM-. For. God, our God,-.is a gallant foe'. . rh'at playeth behind tho veil. I have loved .my God as a child at heart That seeketh deop bosoms for rest, I have loved my God as maid to man. But, lo! .this thing is .best;. . To "love your God as a gallant foe that plays behind the veil, To meet your God as tho night winds • meet beyond Arcturus' pale. I have played'with God for a woman, J.' have staked with my God for truth, I have lost to my God as a: man, clear- " '' eyed, His dice bo not of ruth. , ' For I am made as;a naked blade; But hear ,vo this thing in sooth; . Who loseth to God as man to man : Shall win at the turn of the game. . I have drawn my blade where the lightnings meet; But tho ending is the same: Who loseth to God as the sword . . lose Shall win at the end of the game. - For 'God, our God, is a gallant foe That plaj'eth -behind theWeil; Whom God deigns not'to;-overthrow. Hath need of triple mail. ~. -Erra Pound , in "Personal."