22 AUGUST 1914, Page 17

POETRY.

IDLE TEARS.

MELEAGER.

WHAT though the callous earth doth separate My Heliodora from her widowed mate? Sad tears, the relics of a shipwrecked love, Perchance may pierce to Hades from above. Thus at thy tomb my mournful voice I lift, To Acheron thou art an idle gift, Whilst love's libation from my eyes I pour In memory of her who breathes no more. Whither is sped my flower in its bloom ? Hades has marred its sweetness with his gloom. All-nurturing Earth, grant me this last request— Clasp her, 0 Mother ! gently to thy breast. 0.