Selected Verse

Waikato Times, Volume 121, Issue 20278, 21 August 1937, Page 15 (Supplement)

Selected Verse

THE KINGDOM IS AT HAND. You do not need to tour the earth To know the sky is wholly blue; The person of the humblest birth Has all the heaven in his view. You do not need to scour the To find the loveliest shades of green; A British meadow wears a robe As fair as any to be seen. You do not need to range afar To find exhilarating air; The breezes on the downland are As pure as breezes anywhere. You do not need some far retreat In which to find your heart’s content; As much romance is in your street As on some distant continent. —K.W., in Tit-Bits. SPEECH TO A MARINER. O mariner, regard the sea that still Blue under bluer sky awakes to dream In cove and gully, when above the hill The gulls cry seaward and the wet dunes gleam. Look northward toward Matinicus and see An island like a jewel in the bay, Or up the Narrows where, imperiously, The mountains lift their crests against the day. Here is your kingdom, Happy Mariner, This wide expanse of dripping weed and tide; O Compass-reader, ever will the stir And what incredible wonder moves you so— Only sea lovers and the sea born know. —Harold Vinal.

DO IT TO-DAY. If you have a task That ought to be done But don't see the way, Get on with the work, Don’t grumble nor shirk, Do it to-day. The bill that you owe And daily forgo, But know you should pay, Promptly clear off the debt Before you forget, Do it to-day. The kindness you’d do If you only had time. But simply delay, Resolve not to wait Until it’s too late, Do it to-day. The word of good cheer, Optimistic and clear. You think you would say. Give a greeting worth while. A hand-shake and smile, Do it to-day. —Grenville Kleiser. THE CURE. The sands of life are running fast. And dimming sight and shortening breath Are grim remembrances of death.” I’hink of the hundreds by your side. Whom cares from happiness divide. And set your face, and bravely smile. To give them confidence awhile. They know no purposeless to-morrows Who lose themselves in others’ sorrows. —H.R.P., in the Weekly Scotsman.