Shakespeare's Birthday
ee Poem by , N.Z. Author
(By the late Miss:
Mary
Colborne-Viel
One April morning, long agone (Queen Bess was young on England's throne), A mother changed. her sigh for smiles Hearing the gossips’ word, the while They happed him in his infant’s gowns "A little boy has come to town." The Avon flowed its neaceful way; As still that Avon flows to-day, And soon its banks of soft green grass. And trees that watch the centurics pass, Saw, ‘laughing, " scrambling Ug and down, A little lad of Stratford Tiown. There wild thyme bloomed his steps to greet, And violets, dim, and blue, and sweet. Only, they say like snail he crept Unwillingly to school and wept, Dull, book- nursed headache made hing frown, Poor little boy. of. Stratford Town. In learning "he. was. still to seek. He knew small Latin and less Greek. But every season's change he knew. And every bud and flower that grew; And birds that clapped their wings with joy Taught wisdom to this Stratford boy.
The willow slanting o’er the brook... Her silver leaves for Shakespeare shook. , Woodbine and rosy eglantine _ About his heart would tendrils tawine; And fairies whispered up and down The leaty lanes near Stratford Town. Then woods were rare with green retreats, Where, dreaming, through the noonday heats, He saw brave ‘companies pass by,Huntsman, and clown, and jester sly, Old monarchs with their kingly: crown, And strange fair queens, by Stratford Toun. More-he could read «his mother’s eyes; Each meaning of her smiles and sighs; Could fathom by precocious art, "4 Sweet secrets in a -maiden’s heart; Or ‘neath -white hairs surpr isew the¢’ brown, While grandsires talked, in Stratford Town. So Shakespeare lived-ere, grave men tell, He loved, not wisely, but ioo well ; He broke the pale,.and ehased the deer, Grew actor, courtier, poet, seer; Made life a stage for his renown,Made England’s glory Stratford Town. And now. the April feast has come, To England, alt our hearts fly home, Greeting him on that -early way. Not the great dead we hail to-day, la Not the wise bard with-olive crown---. . But the fair boy of Stratford Town, The above poem ‘Will be read from SYA on the occasion ‘of Bhakespeare’s dirthday celebrations. _:
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https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/periodicals/RADREC19290419.2.20
Bibliographic details
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Radio Record, Volume II, Issue 40, 19 April 1929, Page 8
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374Shakespeare's Birthday Radio Record, Volume II, Issue 40, 19 April 1929, Page 8
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