VARIOUS VERSES.

Wairarapa Age, Volume XXIX, Issue 8272, 27 October 1906, Page 3

VARIOUS VERSES.

WHERE THE WAYR END. ""What ia the sorrow? A little spaoe— The cry of the fallen in the race:— The dying cry which the world heeds not--11l remembered, nr soon forgot. • Joy or sorrow will end in rest— Dust, and a ioso ou a dreamless breast. What is the sighing? It is not long: One in the end are the sigh and enng, One the faith, and one the doubt— The cry of the vanquished—the victor's shout. Victor and vanquished must creep for rpst - Where the dnst is blown o'er the dreamless breast. And what in the transient gloom and glow: Is the beautiful love that we cling to so. The rose red lip, and the sparkling eye? A gracious greeting-a saJ goodbye! With pallid faces and lips grief profit 'The lovers creep to the rose for rest. :So we smile at the dark—on the pathway rough: There Hhall be sunshine and rest enoueh, After the stormy ways are nßst, Rest eball be sweeter at last—at lust! Joy and sorrow will end in rest- ' -Dust, and a rose on a dreamless bieaat. —"Atlanta Constitution." It. 'if all the skies were sunshine, Our faces would be fain "To feel once more upon them The cooling splash of rain. -It all the world were mnsio, Our hearts would often long one sweet strain of silence To break the cadless song. ilf life were always merry, Our souls would Beek relief -And rest from weary laughter In the quiet arms of grief. -—Henry Van Dyke, in the Pilgrim. ■DOUBLES. f A obild^eits'blowing bubbles in the eun, Above his head they float up higher and higher, 'Clear, opalescent, trembling with the fire Imprisoned in the depths. The colours run A scale of soundless music, then , upon The air—mist—nothing! Ah, me! We aspire Like children, to create! We.never tire, Tho' soarce onr day of life has yet begun, 1 •Of putting fco otir eager lips .the pipe Of Pan, and with the broatb of Hope, again .And yet again we see onr bright dreams grow Unto th,e perfect round, the prototype Of joy—then vanish. Was the vision vain? Ask tbu ideal that made the buoble glow. —Charlotte Lay Dewey, in Overland Monthly. BLINDNESS. 'We seek for beauty on the height afar; But on the earth it glirrmers all the while; 'lis In tne garden where roses are; * 'Tis in the glory of a mother's smile. We seek for wisdom in eaob solemn hook; Bat aye beyond the musty page it lies: •Tis in the script ofjviolets by the brook; '.'Tis in the laughter of a baby's j eyes. —By Edward Wilbur Mason, in The Housekeeper. THE HILL OP PINES. Stretched out beneath the mountain pine, I watch the mottled woods below; The distant hills their olear-eut line, Through soft, autumnal sunlight show. A busy robin harries by; And now a hawk above me veers - (Grey wings against an azure sky;} A droning bee around me steers. This nodding little bluebell seems A vagrant bit of heaven furled; ! The nestling lake like diamond j gleams, Its sapphire calm in ripples curled. I see the light on hill and plain; I see the sky's resplendent blue; But all my thought turns baok again To other days fulfilled with you. You shared my Jove of fluwer and field: Your comradeship to Nature brought . A fairer joy she cannot yield To me bereft of answering thonght. . About the hills a memory clings; It haunts the forest's rustling ways—- " The doubled pleasure sharing brings I miss these clear, autumnal days. • —L. V. Ledoux, in Muneey's.