POETRY.
LALEHAM.
APRIL 15ra, 1889.
THERE were mild lights in the dim softened air, Blue lakes in rifted skies,
I stood betwixt the yew and holly, there Where the lost Master lies.
The lark's exuberant tremble of bright cheer Soared the still graves above, And a green linnet from the holly near Piped his coy lay of love.
A year ago the " mighty Shadow" hushed A clear, a lofty note, More tender, wistful, pure than ever gushed From lark's or linnet's throat : A year ago was quenched a nobler light, A more pathetic ray, Than falls from the cleft ether's silvery height On this gray stream to-day.
Thro' all the Easters of " the far-to-come," Birds will in music yearn, The pleading river wander by, and hum Its litany eterne And primroses in countless Aprils throng This tranquil " shy Thames shore,"— The stately Poet with his limpid song Shall ne'er break silence more.
'Tis well, at least, so much of lifted thought, That placid voice sublime In rich and moving cadences has brought To the tired ears of time.
JOSEPH TRUMAN-
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