THE SUNSET GARDEN
I can see from the window a little brown house,
And the garden goes up to the top of the hill.
And the sun comes each day,
And slips down away
At the end of the garden an' sleeps there ... until
The daylight comes climbing up over the hill.
I do wish I lived in the little brown house,
Then at night I'd go out to the garden, an' creep
Up ... up ... then I'd stop,
An' lean over the top,
At the end of the garden, an' so I could peep,
And see what the sun looks like when it's asleep.
MARION ST JOHN WEBB
SWEET AS THE BREATH OF THE WHIN
Sweet as the breath of the whin
Is the thought of my love—
Sweet as the breath of the whin
In the noonday sun—
Sweet as the breath of the whin
In the sun after rain.
Glad as the gold of the whin
Is the thought of my love—
Glad as the gold of the whin
Since wandering's done—
Glad as the gold of the whin
Is my heart, home again.
WILFRID WILSON GIBSON
THE LAW THE LAWYERS KNOW ABOUT
The law the lawyers know about
Is property and land;
But why the leaves are on the trees,
And why the winds disturb the seas,
Why honey is the food of bees,
Why horses have such tender knees,
Why winters come and rivers freeze,
Why Faith is more than what one sees,
And Hope survives the worst disease,
And Charity is more than these,
They do not understand.
H. D. C. PEPLER
"I AM BORN OF A THOUSAND STORMS, AND GROW WITH THE RUSHING RAINS"