VERSES OLD AND NEW.

Dominion, Volume 4, Issue 1049, 11 February 1911, Page 9

VERSES OLD AND NEW.

.■■'•"■ '\ ' ' ■ - ■ • •■ : \ : ' A MONK'S MOTHER. #'•';. Tho whips of God curl round a youngling ''■' ash: ; • V ■ . • Aiiguished, it beats tho casement with ',:•-. its tbiu, '.-.•■■. - Tornftuted arms. I listen to the lash ■ i Ot some five-thonged,, five-knotted discipline ' On shoulders bowed by sin ' ■_ . > Or*heavy. witli tHo fear of sinning: ! I kirs worn arms, feel drops that hotly splash . His robe, Who is our tild and our beC Binning.'. ' •' ■ ' Our Father, let him sleep! The.servant tires .'.'•■ With labour, on Your.bread and oil ; and wine. Nay, servant is he, whom the abbothircs To press Your olives or to prune Your vine? < .' /'■■•< ■■■'■ ' His is. Your son—and mine, > ' ■ Who scourges sleep. Too soon tho Latin's ' , ', thunder shall storm the sky from many .'.•: . yuircs, •' foo soon his lantern guide him forth to matins. ; Our Father, docs he sleep? For, like sonio d!rgo They sing in Brittany when tho babies die, The littie ash is moaning. Let the 6Courgo ■-. • •' That whips this bosom wheraheused . to lie" ' * ' Drop with tho wind: so I, - Dreaming my dear no longer wrestles ■TOth'You in prayer,.may crush dreamhabit's sergo ■ Close to this heart" whereon no baby •■■( nestles. ' " ■ ...',, -■", '' If.- he had only'died, I could have said: ■ ■■' "Ho will; not'suffer any more." I cheat ~'. My lovo with baby-fancies in.my bed: . .:' Yet always wonder: when I sit at meat: . .:<; ; ' ':" "Has/ho enough to eat?" ■■''' Doubt.'in'a mother, Sin-forgiving, • Can You forgive ? I'd trust,, You with. '',''■ my dead, ' • ' ■'*■'' , - ! IfJL might: leain to trust. You .with my '■■■: '~ y "', '. ;' > .. ■ i ; If he had only died, I could have thought: ■ "Still he's my, sou. And, since I keen tho '' '-law ■;.'■'. "-.'■ -V '■ ';•■' • • .Which. God'and all the saints of God havo taught, I share his glory." But last night I saw : Him. dying on tho straw: .. • • And said:,,- "Can pillow-fancies . • I', smother.' My fear lest he forget ? I shall bo nought. Wnat holy monk in Hcavfn will want his mother?" . •'.,;'

—Margaret Lovell; Andrews, in "Tho N»tion.'l , ' i'".".',' : '

'•/'"-' 'A LULLABY. .(..'." -i ; . -. 1 . .v.- Lady Moon, 0 Lady Moon, Here's a littlo sleepy girlio that must go to-slumber soon! ....'- Won't you glido across tho window on ; your shining silver wings, Won't you.spare 'twist noon and

]- :■ noonv •-. ■ ' Jnst'oso tiny: tender minute to this cot . with a baby in it, , Though I know you're 0 so busy with a hundred million things!

~ Lady Moon, 0 Lady Moon, ■-.'. Let her seo tho polished buckles on your gleaming silver shoon,, • ■ Let her touch your diamond rings v and the star-dust on your wings; And should you bend above her—ah! but that would be- a boon!— '

And kiss her little rosy lips, how kind, - 0, Lady Moon!'

• lady Moon, 0 Lady Moon, ' Tell her just one fairy-story that you've gathered as you go ■ •; ■ >

From .tho piiicw;oods or the snow, from tho gaily lighted cities or the stars abovo them strewn; '] There's a.sleepy little girlie that .■:'..'•, would liko, so much-to'know' ■-'■■ Just onn little • fairy-story,-lady- Moon I

Lady Moon, 0 Lady Moc-nT""'.'. : "• :? It: is late; and'you're'6o'busy with "60 • many trysts to keep, .'■.'■ And our-littlo babba—it -is time she went to.sleep! ~".. Kiss .those cheeks that mock December ' With their, roses picked in. June; Though she's sleepy she'll remember, , Shell remember, Lady .Moon! ! ; —'Will H. Ogilvic, in the "Westminster ■"? Gazettol" ■ ■ ■: ■ .'! THE SOUND OF THE HORN. , : . ' ■.■■'. (After Verlaine.) As the .voiced sorrows of an orphan tiso The horn notes in the forosfs' slumbrous deeps, •' :"•■■•■.■■■•" Blown faint and far. down the long barren .'. ' " steeps, -■■■ Where,-'mid the errant gusts the last , plaint dies, ' The wolf's soul in that mourning cadence' cries, - ; • , ■ Soaring as o'er the sun the low dusk .'.•■ creeps, '•"'.•:.'':■■ ' ' ,"■ A sad enchantment, a delight that weeps •'.: In agony imploring to the skies. Meet harmony for that strange sunset call The snows,' adrift, like swathing linens • fall . White on.the bloody -wounds of passing day, " • . And all the air is as a soft sigh breathed From patient lautumn with dim' mist veils wreathedj ■ ■. -, .'•'■.; In a hushed monotone of wide lands grey.. —F. O'Neill Gallagher, in the "Daily News." ■,-.- THE OJOEEN OF BEAUTY. The lake was, dreaming under heavy trees, ~' ' .'-,' The waters wero unruffled,' and the breezo Did not bend down tho tenderest branch ;'.' 'that grew' - Over tho waters that the leaves dropped •' • .: to. "', ' -.....-. And where they dropped, they lay, and ." did not fail ' Or mo-so again,, but deep their glossy mail, . Through' slow oblique descents, dipped iu ' a maze,' : And sang among the leaves of other days.

There; by the lako, there was not any _' sound, Nor in tho trees, nor over on the ground Came any timid footstep, nor the wing Of .birds broke serious slumber- \ - Jug. .•

?*!•£?' ?? on tll 9 lalj0 ' scarce to be seen, AJittle island is, of faded green: bo lovel round tho isle tlio wators i?o, •mat onis might look and pass and'never Know, - .j

But thore. in magic trance' unon the T^found? ine QUO?n 0t Beaut r be AVai th?c<.,' «nturies tho kisses That will release her from tho sorcery.

0. I. am sad and sorry for tho Queen In that dim lake, ami snrelv I will Z And waken her, and lovo her till I die. 1 -Jumes Stephen?, in tho "Nation."