Bookworld.

Maoriland Worker, Volume 2, Issue 31, 6 October 1911, Page 4

Bookworld.

When the dim presence of the awful night Clasps in her jewelled arms the slumbering earth, Alone I sit beside the loAvly light, That like a dream-fire flickers on my hearth, With some joy-teeming volume in my hand — A peopled planet, opulent and grand. It may be Shakespeare, Avith his endless train . Of sceptred thoughts—a glorious progeny ! — Borne on the whirlwind of his mighty strain, Through vision-lands, far ever fair and free. His great mind beaming through those phantom crowds, Like evening sun from out a Avealth of clouds. It may be Milton, on his seraph wing, Soaring to heights of grandeur yet untrod; Now deep where horrid shapes of darkness cling, Now lost in splendour at the feet of God: Girt with the terror of avenging- skies, Or wrapt in dreams of infant paradise. It may be Spencer, with his misty shades, Where forms of beauty wondrous tales rehearse; With breezy vistas, and Avith cool arcades Opening for cv r er in his antique verse. It may be Chaucer Avith his drink divine, His Tabard old, and pilgrims twentynine. Perchance I linger Avith the mighty three Of glorious Greece—that morning land of song— Who bared the fearful front of Tragedy, And soared to fame on pinions broad and strong: Or Avatch beneath the Trojan ramparts proud The dim hosts gathering like a -thundercloud. No rust of time can sully Quixote's mail, In Avon ted rest his lance securely lies; Still is the faithful Sancho stout and hale, For ever wide his Avonder-stricken eyes; And Rosin ante, bare and spectral steed, Still throws gaunt shadows o'er their every deed. Still can I robe mc in the old delights Of Caliph splendid and of Genii grim, Tho staT-AV-ealth of Arabia's Thousand Nights, Shining till every other light groAVS dim; Wander aivay in broad voluptuous lands, By streams of silver and through golden sands: Still hear the storms of Camoens burst and swell, His seas of vengeance raging wild and Avide; Or'wander by'the glimmering fires of > - ; Hell, ■■'■■■ i ■■ " ■ With dreaming Dante and his spiritguide; Loiter in Petrarch's, green, melodious grove. Or hang Avith Tasso o'er " 'his hopeless love. What then to mc is all your sparkling dance, Wins - purpled banquet, or vain Fashion's Maze, - Thus roaming through the realms of rich Romance, Old BookAvorld, and its Avealth of royal days: Forever" Avith those brave and brilliant ones That fill Time's channel like a stream of suns. —James MacFarlan.

A highly-successful anti-militarist meeting was held in Cobden recently, J. Smeaton presiding. Resolutions of protest were unanimously agreed to. The drivers' unions of N.Z. are perfect strongholds for tlie Trades and Labor Councils' Federation (not reg.). The peace-at-any-price party have a firm grasp of the reins, and the fiery steeds or Industrial Unionism are tabooed from the . management coach.