Poetry.

Waikato Times, Volume XXXIII, Issue 2677, 7 September 1889, Page 5 (Supplement)

Poetry.

THE LORDS OF LABOUR.

[No ri'..—This Stirring ml" was written by the Rifted but ill-starred Scottish poet, James \'cfarlan, born in the West of Scotland in ISM, anil who, attcr a chequered, erratic career, died ol consumption in 1802.*) Thoy come! they como in a gloi ious march, You can hear'their steam-steeds neigh, As they dash through skill's triumphal arch. Or plungo 'inid the dancing spray. Their pale-tiros blaze in tho mighty forge, Their life-pulse throbs in the mill, Their lightnings shiver the gaping gorge And their thunders shake the hill. Ho ! these are the Titans of toil and trade— The hemes who wiold no .sabre; But mightiest conquests repeats the blade That is borne by the li»rds ot Labour. Brave hoartsliko iowels light the sod, Through tho mists of cotnmerco shino, And souls flash out like stars of God From the midnight of the mine. No palace is their#, no castle groat, No princely, pillared hall; But they well can laugh at the roofs of state . 'Neath tho heaven which is ovor all. Ho 1 these are tho Titans of toil and trade, etc. Each bares his arm for the ringing strife That marshals the sons of the And tho sweat drops shed in tho batt'e ot life .. Aro gems in the crown of toil ; And prouder their well won wreaths, 1 trow, Than laurels with life-blood wet, And nobler tho arch of a bare bold brow Than the clasp of a coronet. Then hurrah for each hero, although his deed Bo unblown by the trump or tabor; For holier, happier far is the meed Thatcrowneth tho Lords of Labour. THE FIRST GRANDCHILD. " Grandmother !" called tho farmer, and thero came Out through tho vine-wreathed porch a blushing dame, Surprised and eager at the strango new name, The clock within rang forth tlia chimo for eight. . ... "A message? Read it —quick—liow can you wait ?'' Her husband smiling, leaned upon the gate. At arm's length, holding in his trembling hand . . The crisp white sheet, while ho the writing scanned, . Then read onco more, with voico almost unmanned "Thy grand daughter salutes thee, Baby Bell.' Mother and child, thank (rod, are doing well." A moment's silonce on the proud twain fell. She broke it soon, " Grandmother, I con- " What mo?" tho good man cried, lifting his hat— , "Grandfather"—me? I hadn t thought of that." AKNIK A. Pkkstqn'.