Poetry.

Waikato Times, Volume XXXII, Issue 2659, 27 July 1889, Page 5 (Supplement)

Poetry.

THE ORANGE AND THE GREEN. Jnly the twelfth one morning clear Met Patrick'.- Day out walkin', They nodded dliry enough at first An' then fell into talkin', Says brisk July, " bedad its dhry This way we havo of greeting, This glow'r an' bob we givo by job, "Is not like naybors meeting. " I don't see why old times gone by, Need make us meet so shyly ; Nor is it Pat, a reason that Wo'd pass each other dhryly. " If, at the Boyne, your friends and mine, Stood up for James and Willy. For ns to scowld and look so cowld About it's mortal silly. " If they were right, they had their fight, An' so it should be ended, If they were wrong it's far too long Ago for us to mind it." Say's Patrick's Day, " That's just the way A neighbour should be talking So he's my hpn," my dacent man, Let's chat a bit while walkin'! "If you must walk, an' drum an' talk It's useless to be mulish, Sure I can do the same thing too An' be as wise or foolish. "Our fathers fought, when both sides thought 'Twas lielands cause they stood for, But you an' I, I think, might thry What unity is good for." July and Pat thus had their ehat, While dawdhrim on like naybours, And as for those who'd make them foes, Bad luck attend their labours. Amen. —P. S. Cassidy, in Celtic Monthly.

FOR MOTHERS. Send tlie children to bod with a kiss and a smile; Sweet childhood will tarry at best but a while, And soon tliey will pass from the portals of homo, The wilderness ways of the great world to roam. Yes, tuck them in bed with a gentle " good night!" The mantle of shadows is veiling the light, And may be —God knows —on the sweet little face May fall deeper shadows in life's weary racc. Yos, ssay it— " God bless my dear children, I pray !" For it may be the last you will whisper for aye. The night may be long ere you see them again ; And motherless children may call you in vain. Drop sweet benedictions on each littlo head, And fold them in prayer as they nestle in bed ; A guard of bright angels around them invite, i\>r the spirit may slip from its moorings tonight.