... OUR POETS' CORNER A SONG OF MEMORY They came from the North in the howling wind, From snow and ice o er the silver sea, From floes where the foot of man ne'er trod, From bleak and frozen mystery. They came from the South where the palm plumes wave, From heat and g'are and the burning sand, From islands set in the azure sea, From foam and spray o'er coral strand. They came from the East in its ...

... Warm days and sunny skies Keep my love from cold and sadness; Warm heart and loving eyes Beat with joy and shine with gladness. Spring is coming flushed from sleep, You shall kiss her cheeks of roses; You shall see her laugh and leap Where the crocus bloom uncloses. Odours swee! of v olet, Luscious fruits your taste to whet, Cyclamen wilh scalloped bells, Grasshoppers to sing their spells, ...

... A CiRISTMAS SOMG aa OHdl Samite Osimgo59 V^HLK Vm T b Smrngf by MfM} CbSJdliFeEh ona a (j Cbrfsttmsis Day K| ...

... O soft impalpable Mist lightly drawn Over the sun's unseeing eyes. How may one tell Whether 'tis eve or dawn Droops hesitating from the skies? The shadows flow About me broodingly- I turn My steps with head bowed low and wait Dumb in the outer court. I dare not go To see if fires still burn Within the temple gate. Margaret Sackville ...

... Shining white clouds in the cherry trees tangled And over the orchard snowing Silver wild cherries on the hillside spangled And bright in the brown woods blowing So white, so bright, so fragrantly Heart s delight blossoms in me. Swallows come back to their daylong careering, In love and in finest feather, Swerving down, close to the cowslips nearing, Then high in the golden weather In such ...

... OUR POETS' CORNER THE PASSING GUEST The children laughed. We dare not give him bread, Nor even water. He is proud to be Only a Suddenly, from the grave's first dead, Lo my one lover there confronted me. The lonely look of one who has been born Upon the height was in his eyes. Above All other things, no god were more forlorn Above all o.her things, except my love To that high head crown after ...

... J ROSE-TIED CITY HALF AS OLD AS TIME What lies behind that sun-gold wall Who calls from lower and balcony Without the door cold shadows fall, Oh children, will ye wait for me Oh blithely, blithely had I gone Into that sunny town once more, But Nancy Belle and Lytel John Have hurried by, and shut the door Sec opposite page) Drawn for The Sphere by P. A. Staynes ...

... A bee may revel in the uncut hay, Bending the clover blooms unnumbered times, Through the bright ardour of the noon may pay Her countless murmurous visits to the limes. But I consider the great bumble bee Has more luxurious knowledge of delight. Under the hoods of foxgloves, cumbrously Drawing his warmth and velvet out of sight, Look how he holds the flowers he selects, Throbbing and drowsing ...

... THE CHURCH OF THE APPLE TREE IN PENAL TIMES Alone, within a lonely glen, Still stands the flowering apple tree, Beloved of birds, revered by men, The haunt of many a bee. From heathy hills a living brook Soft s:ng:ng comes by night and day. Then goes, with farewell lilt and look, Its far sea-seeking way. This is the temple beaut.ful Where our forefathers kneeling prayed, Thou-h Death ran near, ...

... DAFFODIL SONG To Go with a Country Dance. It is known to the world what a sight may be seen In Herefordshire and Gloucestershire As soon as earth remembers how to flower In a flood running over the fresh of the green The daffodils pour like a cool fire Keep off and mind your manners, you young man. It is like as the morning were spread on the ground In Herefordshire and Gloucestershire, And we ...

... 1 A NEW YEAR'S EVE IN 1 WAR TIME. r T By THOMAS HARDY January, 1917 f 1 Phantasmal fears, And the flap of the flame, I j And the throb of the clock, 1 And a loosened slate, And the blind night's drone T j While tiredly the spectral pines intone. r I 2 A And the blood in my ears n Strumming always the same, And the gable-cock With its fitful grate, And ourselves, alone. 3 V The twelfth hour ...

... TO THE MERCHANT SAILORS Frenches. To you-- to you, Gentlemen all, so brave, Who sail the restless wave, O'er waters deep and blue, We, from the trenches, and the bloody mire, Ere (it may be to-morrow!) we expire, Send greetings true. Ye guess not, as ye go, Groping in darkness slow, Or free before the wind, Where the grim shade may wait That holds the key of Fate, What doom ye find But your ...