POETRY.

THE BABY.

Woo are you, Child? What the Company you passed upon the wing?

What is your bourne? What theirs? What message do you bring?

You are my Father and Mother, and I, I am your little eon. I am the Ancient of the ages, yet my course has but begun.

I am you. I am they. I am he that is dead. I am those yet to come.

I am the lad that dwelt in the wilderness. I am he that loved his home.

I am the soldier that fought; the brave, the gay, the strong; Who shouldered his pack and his rifle, and went to death, with a song.

I am weak; I am strong; great, little; have words I cannot say. I come from the light to darkness, from darkness I come to the day.

I am all, I am nothing; a treasure unlost, an old one new- found; For ye knew me not nor loved me, yet Love enwraps me round.

On my journey I met soldiers, angels with wings unfurled, Spreading appeasing shadows over a smouldering world.

To the great Comforter they were speeding, with starry, smiling eyes, In Whose service wounds are healed, in Whose battles no cue dies.

And as they passed, now one, now another of the band Would hail me, and wave a greeting towards me with his hand.

So here and there another would hover a moment in flight, And gaze through the smoke and flame where Earth was yet in sight.

And seeing his Father, would bless him; and watching his Mother awhile, Would whisper Dear Love to her, Dear! be comforted, and smile.

And to one who would not be comforted an angel called, and bade `Mourn not for ever, and let it not be grievous to you for the lad.

For the day is not yet ended; life, life has but begun.

For you are his Father and Mother, and ah! he is ever your son."

Dear Father ! Dear Mother ! I am Love. Love is proof against fire and sword, Love He gave He takes not away. Blessed be the name of the Lord.

P. A. lisasecer.