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Mr. Pyke's particular models in verse have ever been the New England poets, and to the classic coterie of the preceding century he may be justly deemed a legitimate successor.
It is not often that an organisation of amateurs can boast the membership of a genius of Mr. Pyke's type and "The Conservative" has scant need to say that he is vastly proud to have been the means of bringing Mr. Pyke into his beloved United Amateur Press Association.
Consolation.
Oh, grieve not if the gentle glance
That spoke to yours so shyly
But yesterday, now looks askance
On you, who hold it highly!
And do not sigh, if lips and hands
That once were kind and willing,
Obey no more love's sweet demands,
When love has lost its thrilling!
If Jane's or Agnes' heart will roam
To fresher fields and fairer,
So yours has often stray'd from home,
In quest of pastures rarer!
For love may stay or haste away;
Love knows no time, nor season;
For each unrest and change of nest,
Love has its own sweet reason!
Rheinhart Kleiner.
The Horizon of Dreams.
Afar on the rim and the edge of things,
Where the pearl seeds float and weep;
Where the wee cloud-mothers, with delicate wings
Flit over the mountains of sleep;
Afar down the valley where fancies drift
When the sun has shot his last beam
There lies a sweet realm just over the lift
Of the wave and the wonder of dream.
Afar on the rim and the edge of the moon
When the twilight has scatter'd her sheep,
When the tears of the night are found too soon
Just there where the dew drops deep:
