POETRY.

TO A FRIEND ON HIS FIFTIETH BIRTHDAY.

WHEN Horace taught us in our youth,

My Postunins, that years were flying; 'We laughed; the venerable truth

Was evident beyond denying.

We found it, learnt at second-hand, The dreariest of commonplaces; To-day we better understand

The meaning of eau fugame.

• But, though 'tis well-nigh fifty year Since first you sucked your baby coral, "You shall not on your birthday hear From me the dark Horatian moral. You still can walk your thirty mile; Your eye is clear; your hand is steady; And who, that once had seen you smile, Would call you middle-aged already ?

Yet boys at college think us old, And grow polite and deferential; ..Young girls are either shy and cold, Or but too kind and confidential.

And there is many another sign

To warn -us that our age advances; Our care, for instance, how we dine, Our weariness of new romances.

. New catch-words to our ears are brought; Ideals too have changed their•fashion; Now Art would masquerade as Thought, Aud Thought apologize for passion.

Some, conscious of their briefer day, Refuse to'listen, vexed and puzzled ; Cry " Wotild that we- were well away !

The•world is mad and should be muzzled."

Labuniur anal' they will. sigh, '.'.:And few and isvit.those remaining." If time is shorter, we reply,

The less to spare for mere complaining.

-Why measure life by years alone, Like almanac and coffin makers e 'Are miles of barren beath.and stone For. profit worth your !hundred acres Youth's laige estate, with weed and tare O'ergrown, was picturesque and charming; Our narrower field more wheat shall bear

Perhaps,'with more intensive farming.

Be wisdorh ours aside to thrust The mood morose, the wanton pleasure; Our sands of life run golden dust, Each moment charged with richer treasure.

Nor grudge we youth his morning dreams, ••• His cloudy realm of vague ambition; Our Hill of Difficulty gleams • The mount of a serener vision.

To closer grips with fact we draw ; Even failure is a way of knowing; Our least experience a straw To show how winds of God are blowing.

So, freighted with the gifts of Time, Nor mourning what is past recovery, We hold, as in our earlier prime, Our life a voyage of discovery.

And if on no Utopian shore We land, as dreamed our young bravado, A league or two we may explore And chart the •road to El Dorado.

One birthday wish before I end ; May youth and you be 'never parted, But Old Age calling as a friend Still find you just as eager-hearted. R. H. LAW.