Select Poetry.

New Zealand Mail, Issue 226, 8 January 1876, Page 3

Select Poetry.

JOHN’S WIFE. A young wife stood with her head on her broom, And looked around the little room ; “ Nothing but toil forever,” she said, “ From early morn till the light has fled. If you only were a merchant now, We need not live by the sweat of our brow." Pegging away, spoke shoemaker John—- “ We ne’er see well what we’re standing on.” A lady stood by her husband’s chair. And quietly passed her hand o cr his hair. _ “ You never have time for me, now,” she said, And a tear drop fell on the low bent head. “ If we were only rich, my dear, AVith nothing to do from year to year, But amuse each other —O, dear me ' AVhat a happy woman I should be,” Looking up from his ledger spoke merchant John—- “ We ne’er see well what we’re standing on. A stately form, in velvet dressed • A diamond gleaming on her breast ; _ “ Nothing but toil for fashion, she said, “ Till I sometimes wish that I were dead. If I might cast this wealth aside, And be once more the poor man’s bride. From his easy chair, spoke, gentleman John — “ AVe ne’er see well what we’er standing on.” —News Letter. THE SCHOLAR AND THE AYOELD. [From Longfellow’s Poem read before the Bowdoin Alumni.] In mediseval Rome, 1 know not where, There stood an image witii its arm in air, And on its lifted finger, shining clear, A golden ring witii the device, “ Strike here . Greatly the people wondered, though none guessed The meaning that these words but half expiesscd, Until a learned clerk, who at noonday With downcast eyes was passing on Ins way Paused, and observed the spot, and marked it well, AV hereon the shadow of the finger fell ; A nd, coming back at midnight, delved and found, A secret stair-way leading under-ground. Down this he passed into a spacious liall, Lit by a flaming jewel on the wall: And opposite a brazen statue stood AVith bow and shaft in threatening attitude. Upon its forehead, like a coronet, AVere these mysterious words of menace set: “ That which I am, I am ; my fatal aim „ None can escape, not even yon luminous flame . Midway the hall was a fair tahle placed, AVith cloth of gold, and golden cups enchased AVith rubies, and the plates and knives wore gold, And gold the bread and viands manifold. Around it, silent, motionless, and sad, Were seated gallant knights in armor clad, And ladies beautiful with plume and zone, But they were stone, their hearts within were stone , And the vast hall was filled in every part AVith silent crowds, stony m face and heart. Long at the scene, bewildered and amazed, The trembling clerk in speechless wonder gazed ; Then from the table, by Ins greed made bold, He seized a goblet and a knife of gold. And suddenly from their seats the guests upsprang, The vaulted ceiling with loud clamors rang , Tiie archer sped his arrow at their call, Shattering the lambent jewel on the wall, And all was dark, around and overhead— Stark on the floor the luckless clerk lay dead. The writer of this legend then records Its ghostly application in these words : The image is the Adversary old, ~ AVhose beckoning finger points to realms of gold; Our lusts and passions are the downward stair That leads the soul from a diviner air ; The archer, Death ; the flaming jewel, Life ; Torrestrial goods, the goblet and the knife ; The knights and ladies, all whose flesh and bone By avarice have been hardened into stone ; The clerk, the scholar, whom the love of pelf Tempts from his books and from his nobler self. The scholar and the world ! The endless strife ; The discord in the harmonies of life ; The love of learning, the sequestered nooks, And all the sweet serenity of books ; The market-place, the eager love of gam, Whose aim is vanity, and whose end is pain !