Poetry.

Waikato Times, Volume XXXIV, Issue 2781, 10 May 1890, Page 5 (Supplement)

Poetry.

LIFE, ONE LONG DREAM. Love-thoughts and beats of song, Too full for wind or stream, Sing on, snd unseen bird, apart from life s Long un6ll(sd dream. Ottrminds reachonward from to-day s heartthrobs O'er unbreathed hills above, 'Cross th' scarce-silenfc Past,—all shadow; shadow In hope, and joy, and love. And ever a shadow-dream, until Into the unknown dark, From doubt and th' stern fact of life, Drifts our lone bark; Twilight of breadtli and sense, Then the long cold forget; A dark cloud on the blue,—a grave below; — And cypress boughs low met. Sing on, sad bird, and yet, sing on, From thy heart's deepest deep; ... 'Tis a full echo cross the dreaming stretch 'tween Awaking and asleep. A higher central thought to that long dream, Being through joy and sorrow; Drawn from the still yesterday, and part Of to-morrow and yet to-morrow. Frank W. W. Hubbard. Whangamarino April, 1890.

THE POWER OP MUSIC,

D'Aubigne gives the following instance of tha effect of music on Luther during the time he was in a convent:—Luther was himself a good musician and exceedingly fond of the art. One day, overcome with sadness, ho shut himself in his cell, and for several days and nights suffered no one to approach him. One of his friends, Lucas Edenbergcr, uneasy about him, took with him some young boys, choral singers, and went and knocked at the door of his cell. No one opened or answered. Edenberger broke open the door and found Luther stretched on the floor without any sign of life. His friend tried in vain to recall his senses. Then the young choristers began to sing a sweet hymn. Their clear voices acted like a charm upon the poor monk, to whom music had always been a source of delight, and by degrees his consciousness returned. On Reading the Preceding. Poor weary spirit, why did'at thou return, Back to thk 3arth from heaven thou wert so near; So far as thcu had'st journeyed ou thy way, How could'st thou yet return to the pale senseless clay ? So far as thou had'st journeyed on the way To brighter realms (ah ! saw'st thou not the light Of heaven's portals; wert thou not so near Thou saw'st the shining glory of that sphere ?) How could'st thou then return? what called thee hack Prom swill bright promise thou must have beheld Of peace and joy? Sad spirit, what of worth Had the dark world to win thee back to earth ? They raised a strain of sacred melody About the inanimate form so near death's own, And that sweet strain inspired by' thoughtful love Of one dear friend, recalled thee from above. Yes! music, best, most pure, of earth's delights, Was th' enchantment stayed thine upward flight; Yet, had'st thou but kept on thine heavenly way, What rest would now thy sorrows here repay ? For aye untroubled thou had'st worshipped then, And melody more perfect, more divine, Had held thee rapt fjr ever undisturbed ; What hast thou now for what thou might'st have heard ? Yet are we grateful that thou did'st not stay, That thou did'st yet resume the feeble day, The task to end begun in holy zeal, More Christian truths and precepts to reveal. I. I). Hamilton.