Irish Jesuit Province

The Song to the StorkAuthor(s): Richard E. WhiteSource: The Irish Monthly, Vol. 38, No. 443 (May, 1910), pp. 292-293Published by: Irish Jesuit ProvinceStable URL: http://www.jstor.org/stable/20502817 .

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292 THE IRISH MONTHLY

a glorious share in the bliss of heaven had he not a right to hope for ? "

But God's goodness to him has gone far beyond all his hopes, and he is blessed for ever. Blessed John Eudes, pray for us poor sinners, now and at the hour of our death. In these passing hours of our life obtain for us the grace to imitate in our poor measure your purity of life, your assiduity in prayer, your compassion for sinners, your charity for the poor and suffering, your meekness and patience, your ufiwearying labours, your love of the Blessed Eucharist, your devotion to the Immacu late Heart of Mary and the Sacred Heart of Jesus, your zeal for the glory of God.

THE SONG TO THE STORK

"Is there anyone living so lonely as I! I have no one to play with, dear mother.

How I wish that the stork in the gable on high Would bring me a sister or brother."

And the good mother said: " To be grieving is wrong So your tears brush away, child, and maybe

If you sing to the kind stork the old German song He will bring you, my darling, a baby."

Then the little maid sung, and the old German song On the noon-day most sweetly ascended,

While the voice of the mother, rich, mellow, and strong, With the child's voice harmoniously blended.

"Mein Herr Stork ! Mein Herr Stork, who are always so kind, I would love you most fondly if only,

A little companion for one you would find Who is very sad-hearted and lonely."

Then the stork shook his head, just as if he would say (The kind stork in the gable high standing):

"Only ask what you wish, child, and I will obey, 'Tis a pleasure to do your commanding.

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SOME NEW BOOKS 293

A baby companion I'll bring you along, Brother, sister, whichever your choice is;

I can never refuse when that old German song Is sung by such sweet little voices."

Then the stork flew away, far away to the pond On whose breast little folks are reposing,

And are dreaming sweet dreams, earthly dreams far beyond, And, a rosy-cheeked bright-eyed one choosing,

This babe from the water he tenderly took And his flight back to town swiftly winging,

Soon he came to the home, and the ingle-side nook Where the little lone maiden was singing.

As the babe in the child's arms he silently laid, In her glad eyes the big tears upstarted,

And the stork, with polite little bow of his head, As for lebe wohl meant, quick departed.

Then the good mother spoke: " I was not very wrong When I said, ' Brush your tears off and maybe,

If you sing to the kind stork the old German song, He will bring you, my darling, a baby.'"

RICHARD E. WHITE.

SOME NEW BOOKS

i. San Celestino. An Essay in Reconstruction. By John

Ayscough. London: Smith, Elder & Co. (Price 6s. net.) " Author of Marotz " is appended Mr. Ayscough's name on

the title-page, and that indeed is the work that brought his name

into notice two years ago. That very beautiful story was quickly

followed by Dromina; and now this psychological trilogy, as

it has been called, culminates in San Celestino. It is strange that the clever writer, " Papyrus," who praised it so warmly in

the Catholic Times of March I9, professed to be in doubt as to

whether the author was a priest or not, though deciding from

internal evidence that he must be a priest. Though these par

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