Poetry.

Waikato Times, Volume XXXIII, Issue 2707, 16 November 1889, Page 5 (Supplement)

Poetry.

A SUMMER EVENING. The living wonds forego their care, Tim dread of autumn's mortal wing, And shake their birds upon the air, And like a silver trumpet ring. The fiddv bee's complacent croon. Where "long grey grasses bow and bend, Tn all its honey-thickened tune Has no word of the sulphurous end. The sunflowers weave a golden clime, As though their season had no date, Nod to the iron shoes of Tune, And play with his immortal hate. And, maiden, be thou mirthful too, Lay down the burden of thy race, For God is walking in the dew, An evening presence fills the place. The hollow woodlands feel Him there, And dread no more foul autumn's wing, And shake their birds upon the air, And like a silver trumpet ring. —W. B. Yeats, in " The Girl's Own Paper."

IF WE SHOULD PART. If we should part the sun would still throw out its gleam of gold, The trees still sigh, the birds still sing sweet melodies untold, The stream still run as it docs to-day, down to the moaning sea. The flowers bloom for lovers true, and still we'd parted be. If we should part, the world would bo as gay as 'tis to-day, And faithful hearts would beat with joy and sing the hour away ; The lilies in their green gold beds would toss their heads as free As they do now and smile at us, and still we'd parted be. If we should part, the knell of doom would find more hearts than one, Forgiving words would seek in vain to call back what was done ; The wind would still laugh in its glee, but at a broken heart ; And I would know no more of rest, if we should part. —N. O. Picayune.