Now the door was one great diamond and the hall a hollow ruby With wings of rose and emerald most beautiful to see! IX Then he says, "In yonder forest there's a little silver river, And whosoever drinks of it, his youth shall never die! Big as Beachy Head, my lads, nay bigger The centuries go by, but Prester John by half! But he took us through his palace and, my lads, as I'm a sinner, We walked into an opal like a sunsetcoloured cloud "My dining-room," he says, and, quick as light we saw a dinner Spread before us by the fingers of a hidden fairy crowd; And the skipper, swaying gently After dinner, murmurs faintly, "I looks to-wards you, Prester John, you've done us very proud!" Cho. And we drank his health with honours, for he done us very proud! VIII Then he walks us to his garden where we sees feathered demon Very splendid and important on a sort of spicy tree! "That's the Phoenix," whispers Prester, "which all eddicated seamen Knows the only one existent, and he's waiting for to flee! When his hundred years expire And another from his ashes rise most endures for ever With his music in the mountains and his magic on the sky! While your hearts are growing colder, While your world is growing older, There's a magic in the distance, where the sea-line meets the sky." Cho. It shall call to singing seamen till the fount o' song is dry! X So we thought we'd up and seek it, but that forest fair defied us, First a crimson leopard laughs at us most horrible to see, Then a sea-green lion came and sniffed and licked his chops and eyed us, While a red and yellow unicorn was dancing round a tree! We was trying to look thinner, Which was hard, because our dinner Must ha' made us very tempting to a cat o' high degree! Cho. Must ha' made us very tempting to the whole menarjeree! IV In the cool of the evening, when the sky is an old story Slowly dying, but remembered, ay, and loved with passion still, Hush! . . . the fringes of His garment, in the fading golden glory, Softly rustling as He cometh o'er the far green hill. GEORGE RUSSELL (“Æ") THE children were shouting together, A dovelike flutter of hands. The stars were shouting in heaven, One joy from the vale to the height, Where the blue woods of twilight encircled The lovely lawns of the light. J. C. SQUIRE TO A BULL-DOG W.H.S., CAPT. (ACTING MAJOR) R.F.A.; WE shan't see Willy any more, Mamie, We looked from the window and there was his cab, And we ran downstairs like a streak, And he said "Hullo, you bad dog," and you crouched to the floor, Paralysed to hear him speak, And then let fly at his face and his chest Till I had to hold you down, While he took off his cap and his gloves and his coat, And his bag and his thonged Sam We went upstairs to the studio, The three of us, just as of old, Who'd make you face a reproving finger And solemnly lecture you And you lay down and I sat and talked Till your head hung downwards and you looked very sheepish! And you'll dream of your triumphs too, Of summer evening chases in the garden When you dodged us all about with a bone: We were three boys, and you were the cleverest, But now we're two alone. By many a hearted casement, curtained red, I sought no more that after which I Trellised with intertwining charities; (For, though I knew His love Who followed, Yet was I sore adread Lest, having Him, I must have naught beside); But, if one little casement parted wide, The gust of his approach would clash it to. Fear wist not to evade, as Love wist to pursue. strayed In face of man or maid; But still within the little children's eyes Seems something, something that replies: They at least are for me, surely for me! With dawning answers there, |