Tusitala, the lover of children, the teller of tales, Giver of counsel and dreams, a wonder, a world’s delight, Looks o’er the labours of men in the plain and the hill; and the sails Pass and repass on the sea that he loved, in the day and the night. Winds of the West and the East in the rainy season blow Heavy with perfume, and all his fragrant woods are wet, Winds of the East and West as they wander to and fro, Bear him the love of the land he loved, and the long regret. Once we were kindest, he said, when leagues of the limitless sea Flowed between us, but now that no wash of the wandering tides Sunders us each from each, yet nearer we seem to be, Whom only the unbridged stream of the river of Death divides. _Disdainful Diaphenia_. THERE is no venom in the Rose That any bee should shrink from it; No poison from the Lily flows, She hath not a disdainful wit; But thou, that Rose and Lily art, Thy tongue doth poison Cupid’s dart! Nature herself to deadly flowers Refuseth beauty lest the vain Insects that hum through August hours With beauty should suck in their bane; But thou, as Rose or Lily fair, Art circled with envenomed air! Like Progne didst thou lose thy tongue, Thy lovers might adore and live; Like that witch Circe, oft besung, Thou hast dear gifts, if thou wouldst give; But since thou hast a wicked wit, Thy lovers fade, or flee from it. _Tall Salmacis_. WERE an apple tree a pine, Tall and slim, and softly swaying, Then her beauty were like thine, Salmacis, when boune a Maying, Tall as any poplar tree, Sweet as apple blossoms be! Had the Amazonian Queen Seen thee ’midst thy maiden peers, Thou the Coronel hadst been Of that lady’s Grenadiers; Troy had never mourned her fall, With thine axe to guard her wall. As Penthesilea brave Is the maiden (in her dreams); Ilium she well might save, Though Achilles’ armour gleams, ’Midst the Greeks; all vain it is, ’Gainst the glance of Salmacis! JUBILEE POEMS BY BARDS WHO WERE SILENT _What Francesco said of the Jubilee_. BY R. B.