POETRY.
A RHYME OF THE ROAD. I BLESS that man whose kindness set These avenues of shade,
And may his place in Heaven be yet By many a green arcade!
The trees of Heaven are dark and wide ; Sweet shade have they and full ; Our God Himself at eventide Walks there in shadow cool.
Now may He pause mid heavenly folk ; Beckon that man and say : "Friend, they are good, the beech and oak You planted on a day."
And by his palm-tree and his well May angel faces lean;
And may he hear leaven's sacring-bell From out a leafy screen. Now for the acorn smooth and round, And the beech-mast so small,
His bed be made on the holy ground, Where dews of Heaven will fall!
0 may the River of Life flow soft Over its jewelled stones,
And may the birds in boughs aloft Sing well their Lauds and Nones.
Yea, be he keeper of those trees, And may he rest below, Who gives to weary folk such ease, This man of long ago.
And may he shelter golden birds, And white lambs on the grass, Who tempers still for flocks and herds This sky of molten brass.
KATHARINE TYNAN.
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