ORIGINAL POETRY.

Wanganui Chronicle, Volume 6, Issue 284, 13 March 1862, Page 4

ORIGINAL POETRY.

From A Sketch-—by J. Freeth. The king of clay in regal staW'arose, . Ami Nature ’gan to lieain in loveliness ; The dark’ning night withdrew their gloom, To clear a path resplendent car: Earth moved with joy—moved to receive his rays. While air and forests rang with”festive glee; Arovnd, all was delight and gratitude; While tne fair goddess Peace dwelt on the breeze, Which lent its fresh’ning hand to paint each flower: To c voice of universal chorus rose To hail the morn, and sing its Maker’s praise; The flocks and herds were revelling in joy,— The shepherds tuned their pipes to softest strains Of love and harmony. The landscape smiled; The hills with golden harvest, and the vales In plenty yielded up their untold stores Into the lap of honest industry. “ The cock’s shrill clarion,” and the milkmaid's song, The tuned ear caught, as the merry lark From mossy bed seemed but to ’tempt the

skies: j Faint emblem of tli’ aspiring soul's desires, — But fruitless effort, without heavenly aid; The joy may fill the soul in the attempt* Yet earth's attractions bring & back .'.to earth: While holiest aspirations 'still would press. To reaeh its native home, forfeit by sin, But once attained, would never ask return. On Avon’s banks where Clifton’d towering i rocks Lift their gigantic, turrets “in mid air;" — Whose eloud-capp'd pinnacles have born. I ', the shock Of nature’s throes, and deep convulsion's strife; When warring elements have clued their skill To lower the proud pre-eminence they keep: And time’s unceasing devastating hand Has thrown his mantle o’er their stately brow, Where height o’er height, in long succession, brings To the memory things of years long pa»’t; Or deeds of daring, and sweet tales of love; How vent’rous sons, with youthful burning hearts, Forsook their father’s hall, to live secure Amid the rock-', if haply, but to glance On the fair form of her the soul adored:— ”f\v»s here Clotilda held her lonely wav. Wrapp’d in a pensive solitude - of thought: .She moved in silence, but enchanting grace Clothed ev’ry gesture and adorned each step, As down the winding stream a gliding barque She watches, with affection .all hek, own, * . Within iti fragile bo om is embarked 5 The only treasure she on earth held dear, And ho was parting from her—perhaps for ever. Full well she knew that many rugged rocks And faithless quicksands rose beneath the wave; And many a treacherous gulf and friendless shore On tha great “world of waters;” now his home. And well sho knew the- dangers ho would share, Distress and BnJoTring. both might needs en-. dure, • Ere yet again they mot in love’s embrace: Yet no dark care was hers, no frantic grief Possessed her spirit; thoughtful she, but calm, And though her sold in meditation wrapp’d A train of hopes and fears, alternate joy And feelings of intense’ solicitude; Yet- a mild ray of patience gave a light, Which spread a lustre o’er her matchless form: More lovely by her suffering—but resigned: ] Now on the deck her favor’d Alexander stands, j Waves his white ’kerchief to the swelling:

wind, And bids her-, with. a tear* » &v*g ‘'‘•farewell!” It was a tribute of unstained affection; Tullius; lier trulj* of his changeless love.She viewed it a.s the signal of a heart . i Unspotted—uncontamiriate with vice, That lived alone for for, for for would die. He cj.ught her steadfast gaze, and as. they changed The last but rapturous glance, there was a flush Of deep attachment crimsoned her fair cheek; She smiled; and yet- there was a cast, of gloom Hung round the sunshine of her glist’ning eye: Tho’ gay, she seemed in sadness; and she spoke In tones of softness sweet as angel voice. When whispering to mortals—“be at peace,” But as that word “farewell” fell from her tongue, There was a trembling accent,. and a look Of deep anxiety—a stifiled sigh, - Despite of every effort to conceal The unequal conflict struggling in her breast, Broke with deep anguish from her quiv’ring lips. Farewell! For him it spoke a world of blessing, Compounding all of good her soul could wish. Her eye was fixed as on the treach’rous tide, Receding from her view, the vessel moved, — She gazed intently, till her vision, strained, Lost all recognizance of that it sought: In silence stood she; lmt‘ a crystal drop Sprang sparkling, charged with a load of care, *' Rising repugnant from a burdened heart: She wept;—’twas in obedience to the will Of “Him, whose eye forsakes not:” as a cloud In summer flits across the mid-dav beam, And in its course lota fall a fever’d drop, Then passes on, and all is sunshine still:— ’Twas so she wept, no murmuring discontent Could swell her heart, or lurk intruder there. No, she had long resigned him, and full oft Had made him the loved subject of her prayers; And in this hour of trial she had found An answer: she could trust- the Hand to save That called him to and she felt At peace!—’Tivas faith reduced to practice. .She still confided in that Power whose high Behest “the winds and waves obey,”—ancl no Distrust could sb »ke the tenor of her hope: On Him she rest >d, and she long hod known That they who rest on Him shall dwell secure. Oil! how I envied her—-her happiness!

Whevt a Weed. —lt has. long been suspected that the cereal grain# are but cultivated examples of wild cereal grasses—that they were not created as corn, but that -they have been improved by culture into their present condition. This supposition was confirmed by M. Fabre, of Adge, in the south of Franco, who, in 1838, sowed some grains of the JSgilops ovata, a common cereal gras3, and, by successive sowings in garden soil, produced, in 18 i<>, crops of real wheat as fine as any to be found in the neighbourhood. . This experiment is now being carried on by the professor of geology and botany in the Itoyal Agricultural College, and the grass is, gradually undergoing the same transformation jnto the true cereal grain.— Olice a Week. . , All the A man the other day was brought before a county magistrate charged with poaching in preserved; covers. “So, my ’giatu, ’ ’ said; the worthy Jus t ice, ‘,‘ypu’v.e been into, aj preserve, eh ?” “Noa,” said the man, “pleaseyour worship, I’ve'got into a pickle.” .CERTirrcATK of CHATIAOTKR.—-A superintendent of pol ice pnco_.ni*ul« an ‘entry in Iris register, from whicif the folio Wing is an extract: — “The prisoner'set upon me, called me an ass. a precious dolt, a : scarecrow, ; a ragamuffin,\atid art idiot, all of.which I ccrtifydo be true.” • - I^piSFUfABW!.-~,A lady's will. . . s

' Ikpwx’Bitfaxo D>S'C». : -i-'arß«'iiil ding in' * prcat circle, the parity mime •eeiamencc*. One man steps into the middle and, sots about imitating a buffalo, going through the motions of grazing; kicking up behind and before, and roaring lustily. ; ! Wben he is tired, lie signifies the same his head to the ground ; whereon one of his companions fits a "blunt arrow to his how and aims at the tired dancer, who hills like _ a dead buffalo, and is seized by his friend and dragged Out of the ring by liis heels; others then take him in hand, and brandishing their knives, gogthrough all the motions of skinning and cutting him up. As soon as one nian is dragged out, another buffalo-headed dancer takes hi* place; and so the game is kept alive night and. day without a moment’s__cessation, till! above jtho deafening din raised by • the spectators is beard the welcome wlioop of one watching scouts, announcing that “ buffalo come.” Not another instant is devoted to mummery. are thrown aside, bows strung, a finishing whet given to spears, the ready steed mounted, and, with'the sjenl of the wind, away fly the lithe hunters, cheered by the Jiopeful cries and hand-clapp-ings of anxious squaws, who merrily set about fire-making tori pot-scouring againstjtheir ‘ole men’return.— Wild Sport* of the. World. Effects of thk War os Rents in America. —A good story is told in Chicago about rents. A party leased a fine house to a merchant in good business at £I2OO per year. The panic and war came on. Ten wit informs landlord he cannot pay such a rent. ; What can you afford to pay?” “Not over half that sum.” “Very well; you shall have it for £iJof>.” Toward, the end of the quarter tenant inform* the landlord that he cannot psy that. “What can you pay now?” “Nothing! I am doing no business.” “Very well—l want my house taken care of, and you jyiajf stay wjftfcrat rent.” A short time after, in‘passing by tho bouse, he 'found the tenant moving his furniture, and asked him what that was for. “Why, you don’t think I am such fool as to atay in that house,, when I have found a much better one for nothing!”— American Paper. Test for Paraffin Oil.— Fill a tea cup half full of the oil; thou take it out of doors, and dip into it a lighted match. If the oil burns on the withdrawal of the lighted mate 1 it is dangerous to use, and not patent paraffin oil.— Birmingham Journul. The Enfidld Rifle.— ln the completed Enfield rifle there are not less than sixty-one separate and distinct portions; and yet if I@o or 1000 of such rifles were firefr to be put together, afterwards dismembered, and than to. have their various item*, of component and. furniture intermingled in wanton and l indiscriminate confusion, a workman might unite all the parts, without fear of any' of them misfitting, at the rate of one rifle in threeminutes. In compassing this result. on the large scale in which it is accomplished at Enfield, upwards of 800 machines and approaching 200 hands—young and old—are employed. 3f>o finished rifles per day is the maximum rate of production; and upon each rifle there arc expended nearly 800 separate processes of manipulation. —Mechanics' Magazine, A Shying Horse. —Nine out of every ten horsemen jstart in their seat whenever a horseshies, and-then, the-horse is either by whip orspur driven- to the object. This makes horses hxdfc. at any singular object with more nervousness, for they expect a thrashing at tho . same moment. The rider should neither shy himself nor notice it in hi# horse; and, fag, less, punish him,