POETRY.

AFRICA AND ENGLAND-1872-1897.

I.—ENGLISH THOUGHTS IN I I I. —SOME AFRICAN SOUTH AFRICA, 1872.

THEY told me, when I left my home,

That clearer skies and purer air Would make this Southern land a place

That I should love and think most fair.

'Tis true the sky more cloudless is, And warmer blows the fragrant breeze ; Alas I I miss the Northern cold, And cannot love your Southern ease.

I miss the daisy 'neath my feet, No other floweret takes its place ; No skylark wafts my thoughts on high, As heavenward turns my long- ing face.

The Southern stars seem strangers still, I know them not, they know me not ; They twinkle with a colder smile Than my old loves, not yet for- got.

While yet the past is much to me, No glorious legends here are found, Or glimmer of old famous deeds, There's naught but one romanceless round.

But though the skies, the flowers, the past Do but remind me of my loss, Thank God, His heaven is just as near Under and through the Southern•Orme! THOUGHTS IN ENGLAND, 1897.

Once more I've seen the Northern skies, Once more long days have charmed in June, Once more I've heard the cuckoo's note, Once more the skylark's aery tune.

'Tis true life's blood runs faster here, And warms the hearts and brains of most ; I hate the din and clash of strife, The struggle and the struggler's boast.

The great North Bear now coldly gleams And studs the sky with dimmer light ; I long to see the Southern Cross Rise on the horizon to my sight.

The flowers seem dull, their scent less sweet Than when on youthful eyes they smiled ; I long to smell: the " Avond Bloem," And wander o'er the bare " veld " wild.

Kind friends are left, though some are gone, In either land is many a loss ; Yet some day we shall meet once more

In virtue of the world-wide Cross. ONCE more I left South Afrie's shore ;

Knowing me well, in doubt of me, Some said " He never will return, But, his old home his home will

J. PHILIP ',RAG.