TEARS.

Dominion, Volume 3, Issue 864, 9 July 1910, Page 11

TEARS.

iWhen I consider Life and its few years— 'A wisp of fog betwixt us and the sun; A call to battle, and the battle done Ere tho last echo dies within our ears; A rose choked in the grass; an hour of [The gusts . that past a darkening shore • - do' beat; ■The burst of music down an unlistenmg street— I wonder at the idleness of tears. ' : Ye old, old dead, and ye of. yesternight, .Chieftains and bards and keepers of the.

sheep, • ' By every cup of sorrow that you had, loose, me from tears, and make me see

aright. Jlow each hath back ivhat once he stayed , , to weep: Homer his sight, David his little lad!. f-liizette Woodwortli Beese, in "A. Way- ' side Lute,"-

YOUTH. His 6ong of dawn' outsoars the joyful ;; . bird; i , • t '. Swift on the weary road his footfall comes;.,-' , She dusty air that by his stride is . stirred • . . ■ Beats with a buoyant march of fairy drums. ('Awake, 0 Earth! thins ancient slumber . 1 break; To the new day, p slumbrous Earth, awake!" . Set long ago that merry march began; His feet are older than the path they .tread; '/■ His music is the morning-song of man; ?. His stride the stride of all the valiant '■ dead; . His youngest hopes are memories, and ' his eyes . Deep with the old, old dream that never .J. •. dies. . , —Henry Newbolt. *

comes;. She dusty