The Evening Star.

Te Aroha News, Volume VII, Issue 383, 10 July 1889, Page 3

The Evening Star.

c A judicious selection of the verse of that large section of minor poets who have fallen on evil days would,' writes a correspondent, ' constitute a volume of peculiar interest. For one thing, the predominating tone of hopefulness — of unquenchable optimism — that would most surely— paradoxical as this may seem— permeate its pages, would incontestably prove that as the Poet of Despair, James Thomson is unique in the brotherhood .of song. It is to be regretted that the nature of the lines for the writing of which an aged inmate of a Liverpool workhouse was admonished the other day did not transpire, for even in such unlikely byways of literature a poetic gem may be discovered. now and again. One of the noblest odes ever penned in praise of the dignity of labour was the work of a poor Fifeshire pedlar, who in moments of inspiration was in the habit of utilising all the odd scraps of paper, bakers' and grocers' bags, old envelopes, etc., that came to his hand. 'In the following lines — written by a man who was not very long since brought before the magistrates of an English city accused of begging — there is a spontaneity, a delicacy of touch, a rhythmic flow, and a loftiness of aspiration that impart dignity to a theme that has seldom been created in a less unhackneyed manner by poetasters " :—: — The Evening Star. Thousand ages thou hast run , Pauselesg round the regal sun ; Threescore ten is man's small number, Know'st thou death, nor age,.nor slumber.

Canst thou be nor weak nor weary, Canst thou be nor dull nor dreary ; • Needs thy beamy lamp no trimming. Know thy sheeny robes no diniming. Far in Time's mist-mantlad ages. Loved thou wert by Beers pnd sapres. Poets hymn to-day thy story, Bards unborn will lyre thy glory. ' Oto vrear thy stole of splendour ! O to rove thy track of grandeur ! O to be for ever shininj? ! 0 to know no sin's defiling ! Sparkle still, thou silent teacher, Roll thou on, O solemn preacher Beauteous planet, falter never, Be a joy of joys for ever, Fare thee well, thou comer blest, 1 must to my couch end restRest arid leave thee' shining there -With thy thousand sisterß fair. , . Calm I'll lay me down and sleep. Knowing sleepless Heaven will keep Watch o'er me, as even now Heaven-upheld and watched art thou.