SCENES FROM THE SADDLE. 



Grey and green in colourless tone 

 Country-side and tree, 



On, on, wending alone, 



Mile on mile, but with thoughts that are free 

 From cares of the day, life's penalty. 



Red and brown homesteads, restful, small 

 Byre and pond and well. 



Sleep kind sleep over all, 



The touch of peace with enchanting spell 

 And winter's calm, that fevered thoughts repel. 



Mile on mile, villages remote. 

 Effortless, asleep, 



A V here dream-lives seem to float. 



Phantom-like, on Time's unruffled deep. 



To those who storm-tossed watch-hours keep. 



Man and horse, dark and distant hills. 



Winding way and cloud. 

 Peace, peace, the eye-range fills ; 

 Pray man in haste may not have wrought his shroud 



In his weaving, of his deftness proud. 



Man and horse, dark and heavy thought, 



— World-wide moil and pain — 

 Eclipsed, man's vision caught 



Of work's reward, shall he all regain ? 



More, hath he aptitude to attain ? 



In these dark post-war days of 1921 such thoughts are 

 constant and unavoidable companions ; it is to be hoped that 

 a bright future cometh in which the present darkness will be 

 unrealisable. 



9 B 



