Selected Verse

Waikato Times, Volume 124, Issue 20734, 18 February 1939, Page 15 (Supplement)

Selected Verse

COURAGE Keep thy courage high! Let no man ever know The fears that through thy mind Do oft times come and go. Keep thy courage high, When friends grow few and few. Adversity alone Sifts the false from the true. Keep thy courage high, When day seems black as night, For to-morrow must dawn With a fresh ray of light. Keep thy courage high, When burdens weigh thee down, Lift up thy voice and sing. Meet no man with a frown. Keep thy courage high, When life creeps on apace. He who shepherds his strength Wins the end of the race. Keep thy courage high Till thou hast reach’d thy goal. Thy body must perish But God protects thy soul. Keep thy courage high, Although no men commend. Be patient! and thou may hear “Well done” when earth’s tasks end. —Christine Phillips. THE STORY TELLER He talked, and as he talked Wallpaper came alive; Suddenly ghosts walked And four doors were five; Calendars ran backward, And maps had mouths; Ships went tackward In a great drowse; Trains climbed trees, And soon dripped down Like honey of bees On the cold brick town. He had wakened a worm In the. world’s brain, And nothing stood firm Until day again. —Mark Van Doren.

THE PEACE-BRINGER Ceaselessly, silently, flake on flake, Drop to the forest, drop to the field. Leave nothing to w r ake to, nothing to wake. Whiteness and peace be the w'orld’s one yield. Lie deep on the mountains, deep by the streams, A-wait for the sun, for the sun to use. Bank the pane higher, weave the old dreams, Gain us a day we had thought to lose. Dusk-born, yet white as no earthly flower. Heap the road over, bury the wood; Fall on our stilled hearts, hour by hour, Fall until peace shall be understood. —T. Morris Longstreth. 9 THE FROST IS COMING The frost is coming; Listen how They pass, those prophets of the cold When dark the. night and still. We hear, above, a far, faint cry, The wild fowl flying in the night All through the dark, above the clouds, Through silent night and chill. What is that unown hidden thing, Unheeded by our grosser sense, That tells them to be. on the wing? They feel, they fear, they fly. The frost is coming, Listen now! —Bridget Evans Kassabova. THESE THINGS AND MORE These are the things that make fall gay When summer has taken her blossoms away; The pumpkins, piled by the kitchen door, Like sunshine spilled on earth’s drab floor; The apples, filling a bowl on the table For children to munch, all they are able; The shaggy pompons, the barberies bright Defying the frostiest autumn night; The crackle of leaves as we trudge the lane; A golden maple tree in the rain. These glorify an autumn day, When summer has taken her blossoms away. —Mildred Nickerson.