R.N.V.R.

Levin Daily Chronicle, 19 March 1918, Page 4

R.N.V.R.

When it is ondoil how shall I return Arid gather up tlie ravelled threads again _ Of my past life —content once more to earn •■. My daily bread in drudgery and pains I that have been ono of the fellowship Of those who dare the dangers of tlie sea . And know the lift and swing of a big fillip ~ , Surging, full-power, to action under me. X that have heard shells scrcam and • | seen men die . Laughing, as if the war were but a ' game; I And kSown the lust of battle, seen the to end, with whirling sheets of flame. I And felt my veins, long eoursed by j sluggish blood, | Now thrilled and filled with wine and B molten lire; | These have I known -and I have found | tliem good. I Can Ito any lesser heights aspire j) I—that have seen Aurora's pallid f j Defiantly 13 shaken in the face of J I-leav'n, , J, And felt that thrill of beauty, close to ! That .flowers deep in the heart when, i' low -at even, Out of tho."VVestern sky of palest green "When all the sea is hushed and. tremu--I°U S! ~ That first bright star gleams forth puie, pale, serene, { Touching the waves with silver ) Hesperus.X that, have seen. God's fingers paint the dawn , In bars of rose and flame upon the East .. And watched the night-mists as a veil withdrawn Fretted with gold and pearl amethyst X —that have seen the hill-high, smoking surge, _ , • Burst at our bows in rainbow-tinted spray, , . And heard the taut shrouds moanm 0 like a dirge, Can I go back to smoky towns and grey? With dirty streets and sordid offices, ' And stupid talk in trains with stupid men. Oh, every rustle, of the dusty trees Will bring remcmberancc and regret and pain. I'll think I hear the whisper as the bow Shears deep into the phosphorescent sea And, lifting,', drips pale lire and green. . ' .'. Oh, how Can life be ever as before to me? And will you kiss me with delight as of old . Whose lips have felt the sea s salt fierce caress? . Oh, shall I find your love-making grown cold And wearisome your talk and tenderAnd long b and long for the grey, open sea, And the untainted wind upon my mouth. ■ To know again the infinite, deep peace Healing my soul like cool rain after drouth. ~ —N. F. Corbett, in '' Land and Water.