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Of her he loved the best。
Of voyage…perils； bravely borne；
He would not tell the tale；
Of shattered planks and canvas torn；
And war with wind and gale。
He waited till the light…house star
Should rise against the sky；
And from the mainland； looming far；
The forest scents blow by。
He hoped to tell assurance sweet！
That pain and grief were o'er
What blessings haste the soul to meet；
Ere yet within the door。
Then one farewell he thought to speak
When all the rest were past
As in the parting…hour we seek
The dearest hand the last。
And while for this delaying but
To see Heaven's opening Gate
Lo； it received him and was shut
Ere he could say 〃I wait。〃
Happy Days
A fringe of rushes one green line
Upon a faded plain；
A silver streak of water…shine
Above； tree…watchers twain。
It was our resting…place awhile；
And still； with backward gaze；
We say： 〃'Tis many a weary mile
But there were happy days。〃
And shall no ripple break the sand
Upon our farther way？
Or reedy ranks all knee…deep stand？
Or leafy tree…tops sway？
The gold of dawn is surely met
In sunset's lavish blaze；
And in horizons hidden yet
There shall be happy days。
Henry Lea Twisleton。
To a Cabbage Rose
Thy clustering leaves are steeped in splendour；
No evening red； no morning dun；
Can show a hue as rich and tender
As thine bright lover of the sun！
What wondrous hints of hidden glory；
Of strains no human lips can sing；
What symbols rare of life's strange story；
Dost thou from earth's dark bosom bring！
What elements have made thy sweetness；
Thy glowing hue； thy emerald stem？
What hand has fashioned to completeness
From tiny germ； thy diadem？
Thou art the fair earth's fond expression
Of tenderness for heaven above
The virgin blush that yields confession
Thou bright 〃ambassador of love〃！
Fair are thy leaves when summer glowing
Lies in the lap of swooning spring；
But where art thou when autumn； blowing；
Bids youth and tenderness take wing？
Sweet messenger！ thou waftest beauty
Wherever human lives are sown；
Around the peasant's humble duty
Or weary grandeurs of a throne。
Transfused through hearts in future ages；
Thy glowing power anew may shine
Effulgent in the poets' pages
Or music's harmony divine。
But not to thee from future glory
Can shine one added charm or day；
Sweet is thy life's unwritten story
Of radiant bloom and swift decay。
Give； then； to vagrant winds thy sweetness；
Shine； tearful； in the summer shower；
And； heedless of thy season's fleetness；
Enrich with joy the passing hour。
Mrs。 James Glenny Wilson。
Fairyland
Do you remember that careless band；
Riding o'er meadow and wet sea…sand；
One autumn day； in a mist of sunshine；
Joyously seeking for fairyland？
The wind in the tree…tops was scarcely heard；
The streamlet repeated its one silver word；
And far away； o'er the depths of wood…land；
Floated the bell of the parson…bird。
Pale hoar…frost glittered in shady slips；
Where ferns were dipping their finger…tips；
From mossy branches a faint perfume
Breathed o'er honeyed Clematis lips。
At last we climbed to the ridge on high
Ah； crystal vision！ Dreamland nigh！
Far； far below us； the wide Pacific
Slumbered in azure from sky to sky。
And cloud and shadow； across the deep
Wavered； or paused in enchanted sleep；
And eastward； the purple…misted islets
Fretted the wave with terrace and steep。
We looked on the tranquil； glassy bay；
On headlands sheeted in dazzling spray；
And the whitening ribs of a wreck forlorn
That for twenty years had wasted away。
All was so calm； and pure and fair；
It seemed the hour of worship there；
Silent； as where the great North…Minster
Rises for ever； a visible prayer。
Then we turned from the murmurous forest…land；
And rode over shingle and silver sand；
For so fair was the earth in the golden autumn；
That we sought no farther for Fairyland。
A Winter Daybreak
From the dark gorge； where burns the morning star；
I hear the glacier river rattling on
And sweeping o'er his ice…ploughed shingle…bar；
While wood owls shout in sombre unison；
And fluttering southern dancers glide and go；
And black swan's airy trumpets wildly； sweetly blow。
The cock crows in the windy winter morn；
Then must I rise and fling the curtain by。
All dark！ But for a strip of fiery sky
Behind the ragged mountains； peaked and torn。
One planet glitters in the icy cold；
Poised like a hawk above the frozen peaks；
And now again the wild nor'…wester speaks；
And bends the cypress； shuddering； to his fold；
While every timber； every casement creaks。
But still the skylarks sing aloud and bold；
The wooded hills arise； the white cascade
Shakes with wild laughter all the silent shadowy glade。
Now from the shuttered east a silvery bar
Shines through the mist； and shows the mild daystar。
The storm…wrapped peaks start out and fade again；
And rosy vapours skirt the pastoral plain；
The garden paths with hoary rime are wet；
And sweetly breathes the winter violet；
The jonquil half unfolds her ivory cup；
With clouds of gold…eyed daisies waking up。
Pleasant it is to turn and see the fire
Dance on the hearth； as he would never tire；
The home…baked loaf； the Indian bean's perfume；
Fill with their homely cheer the panelled room。
Come； crazy storm！ And thou； wild glittering hail；
Rave o'er the roof and wave your icy veil；
Shout in our ears and take your madcap way！
I laugh at storms！ for Roderick comes to…day。
The Lark's Song
The morning is wild and dark；
The night mist runs on the vale；
Bright Lucifer dies to a spark；
And the wind whistles up for a gale。
And stormy the day may be
That breaks through its prison bars；
But it brings no regret to me；
For I sing at the door of the stars！
Along the dim ocean…verge
I see the ships labouring on；
They rise on the lifting surge
One moment； and they are gone。
I see on the twilight plain
The flash of the flying cars；
Men travail in joy or pain
But I sing at the door of the stars！
I see the green； sleeping world；
The pastures all glazed with rime；
The smoke from the chimney curled；
I hear the faint church bells chime。
I see the grey mountain crest；
The slopes； and the forest spars；
With the dying moon on their breast
While I sing at the door of the stars！
Edward Booth Loughran。
Dead Leaves
When these dead leaves were green； love；
November's skies were blue；
And summer came with lips aflame；
The gentle spring to woo；
And to us； wandering hand in hand；
Life was a fairy scene；
That golden morning in