Poetry THE BABY AND THE TACK

Waikato Times, Volume 2507, Issue XXXI, 4 August 1888, Page 1 (Supplement)

Poetry THE BABY AND THE TACK

I throw the baby into the air, It fell to the earth, I know not whore, who with n tack in hi? foot at night follow a baby in its night? I breathed a swearword into the air, My wife was by, I did not care ; For who that has ever stepped mi n tack Has tried to keep a swearword back ! A minute afterward, in a cloak They wrapped the baby, still unbroko, And tlio swearwoid, from beginning to end, Was told to my wife's most intimate friend. —Judge. THE HOUSE .BEAUTIFUL. A naked house, a naked moor, A shivering pool before the door, A. garden bare of flxwers and fruit And poplars at the garden foot: Such is the place that I live in, Bleak without and bare within. Yet shall your ragged moor receive The incomparable pomp of eve, And the cold glories of the dawn ; And when the wind from place to place Uoth the unmoored cloud galleons chase Your garden gloom and gleam again, With leaping sun, with glancing rain. Hero shall the wizard moon ascend The heavens, in the crimson end Of day's declining splendor; here The army of the stars appear. The neighbour hollows, dry or wet, Spring shall with tender flowers beset; And oft the morning niuser see Larks rising from the broomy lea. And every fairy wheel and thread Of cobweb, dew bediamondod. When daisies go, shall winter timo Silver the simple grass with rime ; Autumnal frosts enchant tha pool And make the cart ruts beautiful; And when snow bright the moor expands How shall your children clap their hands ? To make trio earth, our hermitage, A cheerful and a changeful page, God's bright and intricate device Of days and seasons doth suffice. —Robert Louis Stevenson.