POETRY.
LORD DUFFERIN.
[IN MEMORIAM, FEBRUARY 12orn, 1502.] THE frozen February day Creeps on from hour to hour, Winter lies cold on Helen's Bay, And white on Helen's Tower.
But icier is our spirit's frost, And wintrier our woe : Our Admiral the Bar has crossed,* Our Chieftain's head lies low.
Dowered with all gifts by every god, Of blood, of brain, of heart, The world's wide stage he grandly trod, Master of every part.
In youth he, sailor-born, unfurled His pennon to the breeze,
And steered into a wonder-world Amid the Polar seas.
Then from untrodden ways he turned To crowded haunts of men, To witch all hearts with words that burned, Or magic of the pen : In the Queen-cities, new and old, By Seine and Tiber streams, And where Stamboul with towers of gold Beneath the Crescent gleams : Or where, across the Atlantic tide, Now Wolfe and Montcalm sleep, And French and English, side by side, Fraternal vigil keep.
Till India thrust into his hand The sceptre of her race, And bade hint rule her golden band Of Kings with kingliest grace.
Thus called Ulysses-like to roam The world from East to West, Yet Erin's whisper woo'd him home At eventide to rest.
Now in her arms he bides alway, His fame her endless dower, While suns shall rise o'er Helen's Bay, And sink o'er Helen's Tower.
FREDERICK S. Boas.
• Lord Dufferin was Vice-Admiral of Ulster, and his favourite poem was "Crossing the Bar."
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