Poetry.

Waikato Times, Volume XXX, Issue 2462, 21 April 1888, Page 1 (Supplement)

Poetry.

WINTER SONG,

Why Host thou still and pale now, Wrapped in thy snow-white vail now, Dear mother earth of ours? Where are Spring's voices, say now ? Where Simmer's plumage gay, now? And thy bright festal robe of flowers? Thou sleep'st of it bereft now, Nor lamb nor sheep is left now, In field or upland bare. The birds' sweet songs are dumb now, Hushed is the bee's soft hum now,

Yet even in Winter art thou fair, On twigs and branches dancing, A thousand gleams are glancing,

Where e'er the eye may light. Who hath prepared thy bed now ? The coverlid who hath spread now ! And decked thee with frost jewels bright ?

The 1> unteous Lord of Heaven To t!i"n thy vail hath given, .sleeps not day or night. Be t:iy sleep fearless taken, Ho doth the weary waken In good time to new strength and light.

Soon to Spring's breezes pleasant Thou'lt rise rejuvenescent,

With new life wondrous fair; Whon down their breath floats duly, Thou earth wilt prank thee newly With wreaths of flowers upon thine hair.

THE WISE MAN. The wi.so man was lean, and lank, and grey, With a lung, long face, and a sad, sad eye. And hn sat alone both night and day, While ho read great books that were dnll and dry. And, thought he, " There's no joy in life, I trow ; I'll shut myself up, and none I'll see : Let the world go by, I shan't hear it now, I'll live alone, and I'll happy be. For men are foolish, as foolish can be. And women—they're just as bad !" quoth he.

So he shut the door, and ho made it fast. But one day, "I think it will rain," he said, Then a gl.mca he out of the window cast, And he s uv pais by such a lovely maid. 'Dear me ! she'll gat wet ! That's s.id !" thought he. Then he threw with a jerk his casement wide— "Swoot maid, may I bring you iny cloak ?" said he "Ah ! prithee, pray do !" with a smile she cried. " Ye 3, men are foolish, as foolish can be, But women —they're rather nice !" quoth he.

Then ho wrapped her up in his cloak s°

warm, While the rain poured down on his lear

nod head, With a gallant smile he offered his arm, And the maid to her home he gaily led. No more books for him ! Ho'a a husband now, And of course all his wife's commands obeys: But often a frown flits across his brow, And " wise men are fools sometimes !" he says, "Yes, men are foolish, as foolish can be, But women—they're ten times worse !" cries he. —K. S. Hichens SPEAK GENTLY. Speak gently !—it ia bettor far To rule by love than fear. Speak gently lot not harsh words mar, The good we might do licro ! Speak gently—love doth whisper low Tlic vows that true: hearts liind ; And gently friendships accents flow— Affection's voice is kind. Speak gently to the litflo child ! Its love b , ; sure to gain ! Teach it in accents soft and mildIt may not long remain. Speak gently to the young, for they Will have, enough to bear : Pass through this life as best thoy may, 'Tis full of anxious care. Speak gently to the aged one, Grieve not the careworn heart ; Tho sands of life are nearly run, Let such in peace depart, Speak gently, kindly to the poor— Let no harsh tmie be heard ; Thoy huve enough they must endure, Without an unkind word. Speak gently to the erring—knoiv They may have toil'tl in vain ; Perchance uiikindncss madothemso; Oh, win them back again.