Poetry.

Waikato Times, Volume XXXIV, Issue 2778, 3 May 1890, Page 5 (Supplement)

Poetry.

Fame, wealth, life and DEATH. What is fame ? 'Tis the sun-gleam on the mountain, Spreading brightly where it flies; 'Tis the bubble 011 the fountain, Rising lightly ere it dies ; Or, if here and there a hero Be remembered through the yea.is, Yet to him the gain w zero ; Death has stilled his hopes and fears. Yet what dangers men will dare If but only in the air May be heard some eager mention of their name; Though they hear it not themselves, tis much the same. What is wealth ? 'Tis a rainbow, still receding As the panting fool pursues ; Or a toy that youth, unheeding, Seeks the readiest way to lose; But the man who keeps due measure, Neither out of breath nor base ; He but holds in trust his treasure For the welfare of the race. Yet what crimes some men will dare But to gain their slender share In some profit, though with loss of name or health, In some plunder, spent in vices or by stealth. What is life? 'Tis the earthly hour of trial For a life that's but begun ; When the prize of self-denial May be quickly lost or won ; 'Tis the hour when love may burgeon To an everlasting flower: Or when lusts their victims urge on To defy immortal power. Yet how lightly men ignore AH the future holds in store ; Spending brief but golden moments all in strife; Or in suicidal madness grasp the knife. What is death 1 Past its dark, mysterious portal Human eye may never roam; Yet the hope still springs immortal That it leads the wanderer home. Oh, the bliss that lies before us When the secret shall be known, And the vast angelic chorus Sounds the hymn before the throne. What is fame, or wealth, or life? Past are praises, fortune, strife ; All but love, that lives for ever, cast beneath When the good and faithful servants takes the wreath. —Walter W. Skeat, in the Academy.

= EVOLUTION.

Great God ! wo move into the vast; All question.-) vain—the shadows uome ! Wo hear no answer from the past ; The years before us all are dumb. Wo trust Thy purpose and Thy will, We see afar the shining goal; Forgive us if there linger still Some human fear within our soul ! Forgive ua, if when crumbling in The world that we have loved and known, With forms so fair to us, we sin By eyes averted from Thy throne ! Forgive us, if with thoughts too wild, And eyes too dim to pierce the gloom, Wo shudder like a frightened child That enters at a darkened room ! Forgive us, if when dies away All human sound upon our ears, We hear not, in the swift decay, Thy loving voice to calm our fears ! But lo ! the dawn of fuller days; Horizon glories fringe th" sky ! Our feet would climb the shining ways To meet man's widest destiny. F. G. Scott, MY LADY. When sunshine wakes the sleeping lands, Below the ten-ace steps the stands, And instantly, when first she stirs, Flock round her feathered pensioners. And'oh ! she is so fair to see, I too her pensioner must be, And humbly wait but for a smile, To make me happy for a while ! Yet afterwards when she has gone, 'Tia just as thongh no stin'had shone, And in the darknoss of despair I grope, and find no comfort there. For she is as some bright, bright star, That I must gaze at from afar. And know it never can be mine, However graciously it shine ! —Gr. W., in " Cassell's Family Magazine."