Poetry.

Waikato Times, Volume XXX, Issue 2483, 9 June 1888, Page 1 (Supplement)

Poetry.

4 OUT IN THE STREETS.

The light is shining through the windowpane ; It is a laughing group that 'side the glass— Within, all light; without, pitch-dark, aDd rain; I soe, but feel no pleasure as I pass, Out in the streets. Another casement with the curtain drawn : There the light shows the shadow of a form— A woman's with a child—a man's; all gone 1 They with each other. lam with the storm, Out in the streets. His day's toil over, with hi 3 pipe alight; There at the open window sits a man, Hia wife leans o'er him, with her tale began Of the day's doings. I am with the night,

Out in the streets. All these have their homos, and hope and light: and cheer, And tho9e around who love them. Ah ! for me, Who have no home, but wander sadly here, Alone with night and storm and misery, Out in the streets. The rain soaks through my clothes to the skin ; So let it. Curses on that cheery light! There is no light with me, and shame and sin ; I wander of the night and in the night, Out in the streets.

You who betrayed me with a loving kiss, Whose very touch could thrill me through and through— When you first sought me, did you think of this? My curse—But why waste time in cursing you, * Out in the streets.

You are beyond my hatred now. You stand Above rcproach; you know no wrong nor guile; Foremost among the worthiest of the land, You are all good, and I a wretch, all vile, Out in the streets. You have a daughter, young and innocent, You love her, doubtless. I was pure as she, Before my heart to be your lackey went. God guard her ! Never let her roam like me, Out in the streets. Howthe cold ram benumbs my weary limbs ! What makes the pavement heave. Ah ! wet and chill, T hear the little children singing hymns In the village church—how peaceful, now, and still. Out in the streets. But why this vision of my early days ? Why comes the church-door in the public way ? Hence with this mocking sound of prayer and praise! I have no cause to praise, I dare not pray. Out in the streets. What change is here? Tha night again grows warm : The air is fragrant, as an infant's breath; Why, whcro's my hunger ? Left me in the storm !— Now, God forgive my sins ! This, this is death, Out in the streets. T. D. English.

THEY BE SEVEN. A simple man, Who never cut a dash, And feels an ache in every limb. What should ho know of cash ? I met an ancient cottager, He was sixty-nine, he said ; lie had a few untidy locks Still hanging on his head. "Your weekly shillings, ancient man, How many may they be ?" " How many ? Seven in all," he said, And, wondering, looked at me. " One on ' cm gaws to pay the rent, And food and claws tali vour. And two gaws to the Vox and Goose, To pay the weekly score." Said I, " If one goe3 for your rent, And you can then contrive To make four do for food and clothes, You really have but five." Said he, " I gets seven baub a week, And one gaws for the rent, — And then, d'ye see, in food and claws, Another vour is spent; " And two gaws to tli.; Vox and Goose, The house beside the way; And thaw I baint no scholard, sir, It comes to seven, I say." " But they are gone—thnse two are gone; Why, really, man alive ! If two go in the landlord's till, You really have but five !" Said he, "Two gaws toVoxandGoose, Vor often, I declare, I taks me bread and chcese along, And chaws me supper there. "And ther I meets some jolly pals, Ther's Beel, and Jim, and Shein, And oft I taks me feedle down And scrapes a chune to thim." " But they are gone—those two are gone— They're to the landlord given." ' Twas throwing words away, for still That stupid man would have hie will; " Why, dang it ! they be seven !"