POETRY.

SEEN FOR THE SECOND TIME.

(To T. M.) PETER, Do you remember the stage box

—The one on the left—

Twelve Christmas holidays ago, And the smallest sailor there, who cried When the Pirates came so near P He still wears sailor's clothes, Peter, .

But now he chases Pirates; Real live Pirates, Peter !

Not the sort elle leave Rich, Damp, Plum, Cake On the shores of blue lagoons, But the sort who leave Big, Dark, Hard, Mines In grey, angry seas.

And all the little girls there, Peter, 'Twelve Chrietmases ago, Who clapped so hard to save your Tink, 'And rather liked the Pirates —Specially Since: They've gone the way of Wendy, Peter, And all grown up so much You wouldn't like them a bit, Peter, Now.

—For some have given their thimbles away For ever, And can never give any more, And though a few are real live Mothers, Peter !

Lots of them can never, never be Mothers at all.

And all are awfully grown-up, Peter, And some are rather sad, You know what it was like, Peter, When Wendy went away?

It's just the other way round for them Now.

But, Peter, You can't hide from them All the Shadows on your stage, Laughing Shadows, Coo-eeing Shadows, Shadows having pillow fights; All the boys who heard you say, Peter,

That you didn't want to grow up,

All the boys who thought it silly of you Not to want to be a man.

They went laughing out of the theatre, Peter, And laughing back to school, And laughing off to a real big fight In a big unhappy world; And they fought as you do, Peter, As the sons of English Mothers, And they played at being grown-up Just like you : --:With scarcely-broken voices Shouting stern and grown-up words, And with mask of men's seriousness Over their boyish eyes; They bore greet responsibility, Peter, More real even than yours When you played at being Father To Michael.and Twins and the rest.

But they tired of the grown-up game, Peter, They got very, very tired, And when something within them cried

—Amidst sights and sounds unspeakable—

"I won't be grown-up! I won't! I won't ! "

Just as you had cried in Michael's nursery, it was allowed them, Peter, To throw it all away —All the grown-upness- And to be boys for ever With you, Just like you. , D. S.