Welsh Journals

That is it-the love "in widest commonalty spread" that nothing can extinguish it would seem. Always there comes to me amongst such people the sense of that fearful innocence, which I seldom feel with professionally good people. What may this virgin soil not grow when the seed of Christ's teaching is sown there. "I don't 'old for to be no b- angel," said Manchester, "but I tells my children to go to Sunday School and to do no 'arm to nobody. I'll take care they don't go into no b- army." All this may give the impression that our talk is solemn or profane or tragic, but the amazing thing is the humour that one sees all around, particularly when it is unconscious. Two nights ago, the sergeant of the guard turned out to be an old Irish veteran, with an unmistakable brogue and a decided partiality for the Sinn Feiners. He very considerately left the door and round the fire with the guard. A BRITISH SPY, ON THE EVE OF HIS EXECUTION, TO HIS BROTHER BELOVED! When two hearts are stirred By some great sorrow, known to each, Love doth not need the spoken word To tell of grief: and all unheard In language too divine for speech. So, wert thou near me! Dare I write Where lips would fail, nor tongue could speak? Great God! The very depth and height Of my soul's meaning's lost to sight! That Death shall find what Life would seek. Believe me, there are suns unseen, Heights unstirred and truths unknown, Worlds that hold the "Might Have Been" Of Youth, where men may glean Briar and blossom earth has sown. Aye, you smile, "The fellow's wrought A creed '11 comfort hanging!" So! Enough of the Hereafter! I have thought Of you and Terence all the night, and sought To dull these visions By the dreams of long ago. Is comfort given But this I hold The joy and sorrow, Farewell my Brother: in thy need Live hard. Die harder. Do not mourn. Forgiving Lord Grant us the meed Of a soldier's God, and a soldier's creed, One glad recontre On the march beyond the dawn. the light and good cheer of the outer guard room might come in to us. Soon we had all edged to the door and found the fire with the guard, while the sergeant told of the five campaigns in which he had taken part on behalf of "the b- English Government." His evident cordiality towards me was due I fear more to the thought that I was "agin the Government," than that I was agin enmities of all kind. So his well meant interposition when I was telling the guard that the British Government had no right to punish the German Government, "Of course not; to hell with them," interjected the sergeant. "Phwat did our Blessed Lord say in Galilea, 'Them that lives in glass houses have no right to throw stones.' To which scriptural quota- tion, uttered most sententiously, the members of the guard nodded their approval as they gazed thoughtfully into the fire. How we thundered, you and I, O'er many a pure exalted theme! We hung ideals in the sky Yet scorned the telescope. Thereby We blundered on And slept to wake, from dream to dream. And are they all for naught our deeds ? Do passions perish with a breath ? Is earth a garden where the seeds Lie barren, and the broadway leads Through sun and shadow To vanish at the portal-Death? Ah God! I'd liefer live and climb Through heights of toil, unending strife, Than lie unthinking-worlds of time,- All the heroic or sublime That Thou didst give me To perish with a pigmy life. The shore lights creep along the bay. I may not hold thee heart to heart. But I shall see thee ere the day Break over Kiel. My gaolers say That yon faint moon Shall scarce be dimmed ere I depart. Dilys CADWALADR.