POETRY.
AFTER READING E. M.'s BOOK OF GEORGIAN
POETRY.
FRIEND, born with me in full Victorian days,
When Palmerston proud-voiced our glorious State, And Tennyson was England's Laureate, Now that, alas! your life and mine decays, And Time, dread chess-player, is threatening mate, We, undelighting in weird Georgian ways, Uncomprehending subtle Georgian lays, In our old fashion feel and meditate, For us Romance and Beauty perish not: Sir Galahad yet rides through forests dim, The pale maid, dying, floats to Camelot, The happy princess o'er the world's blue rim Follows her lover; Freedom on the height Chants, all the same, her great immortal hymn.
BERNARD HOLLINA