4 DECEMBER 1926, Page 16
Poetry
Youth Immortal
" YOUTH is a wreath of roses," A bard of Judah said, " But soon 'tis sere and scentless ; All things at last lie dead."
Ah, no ! that dewy garland Time withers not nor seres, And still its lingering fragrance I feel in later years.
My sun has set; now rises The moon with silver beam ; Yet still I know in later life The glamour of the dream.
Say not the wreath will perish I While roses cling and climb The wind shall breathe their sweetness Until the close of tithe. - Oh, say not youth is mortal 1 The world is ever young ; While hope and spring and hive endure The song shall still be sung.
JOID7 ANDERSON STEW ART.