POETRY. OYEZ! OYEZI!

Te Aroha News, Volume VII, Issue 423, 27 November 1889, Page 3

POETRY. OYEZ! OYEZI!

Prophcls, how many ! why tho earth's alive Wnii them ; like a rich cheese, where maggots thrive . , . On luscious faro; their very name is legion. Crowding and bawling in each pester'd region Until their hearers retch in sheer disgust; But flee not'; "when the devil drives needs must," Thtro's no escape. Tho piophet wants blackmail, And gets it ; here excuses won't avail. Prophets, how ninny! each has but one cry— " Mine is the shop for value ; come, \yho'll buy ? •Tvc got tho latest goods, and quite divine." Mammon and God in one foil union join. If you believe him : not that he perceives How he degrades the creed which he believes— Or feigns; the silken purse cm ne'er be made -From the sow's ear ; high thoughts suit ill with trade. <Or with its tricks. He's in the huckster line, And does his best to vend his waves divine, All counterfeit, adulterate, apart .From God and Godlike tilings. Why do you start? It isn't orthodox, I know, to say Unpleasant truths in this outspoken way ; But wholesome words are often rather rough. Or naiibcous even, just like doctors' stutf. , How does he build Ins church .' With flash ' bazaars. Sion retreshers, halleluiah cars— Sixpence a ride ; with holy buns and teas, Or any folly that he thinks will please 1 Or pay. Great Prophet ! So he biows and drums. 'Tis all pure gospel if the money comes. Aye, that's tho test. Your offertory's— what I Substantial I Leave the rest, it matters not. For doctrine take "damnation," " God is love ;'" j The two don't fit, but then they may above, Where prophets hope to reap their ,iust reward - And sign a lasting: truce with tricks and fraud. » Whilst devilled sinner, served with piquant sauce. Will be regarded as a thing of course. What is his message ? lTew have ouurht to tell Beyond sonic tawdry heaven or muttcr'd hell, Or idle dogma, founded on pretence, An insult to poor, outraged common sense. " J£x nihilo nil jit" an empty tub Echoes derision to your rub-a-dub. But whence their Gospel.' Here's a corpseapply The cunning force of electricity. And, 10, a loathsome mimicry of life, Spasmodic jerks, mock gestures— pah ! all rife With .horror passing words, the dead grows quick, Or seems so, yet we know 'tis all a trick ; Death holds possession— well, now take " the faith," (Soruks the phrase) we note the signs of death," —All tliat have eyes— yet galvanibod away Until the thing seems living here to day, A ghastly\vampire- fitter for the tomb; Oh ! for some spell to lay it till the doom. Yet are there, here and there, a chosen few, In all the mob, perhaps, someone or two. Whose utterance rings tho silver tones of truth. They hold the lamp of God— prophets in sootli : For them there gleams a splendour, not of ear tli. within the seething brain great thoughts have birth, Compelling audience, yet for us they stand, Their iealm the future, in a far-off land. Scanning what shall be with prophetic eye, j Quick with the awe-touched soul of ecstasy. We see not what they see, ourga/.e is blurred. The voice they hear, by us may not be heard. God's darlings are they, found so all too late, Beyond the tomb they their proud estate; Here scorn's keen shafts are their*, neglect, the cross. Aye, even worse, to highest manhood'b loss : Yet, when the mighty heart lies chill in death, We bring, too late, our gifts, a funeral wreath, ' Seeking if haply we may thus atone For woiAsill spoken.-deeds unkindly done. E. H. Gvlliveu.