second of these unpublished poems, 'The Fallen':
Their laughter and their merriment have ceased;
Their dreams have found Life's winter in the bud;
The cycle of their life, its dawn decreased
Ere Love had sung the matin-song; their good
Was in the embryo, lips had scarcely known
The first mad kiss of love, scarce felt the thrill
Of woman's hair and cheek; their dreams had grown
Not yet to fadeless purpose, tireless will.
There is a dawn whose flush outlives the day,
Engraves itself upon the consciousness:
There is a fate that Youth will gladly pay
So honour flourish, beauty grow no less:
To Liberty their heritage they gave
And won immortal glory at the grave.
Streets was a coal miner, and quitted work in the pit to be one of 'Kitchener's men.' J. M., a schoolmaster and mission worker, who was a friend of his, writes in a postscript to The Undying Splendour, that 'born in the same village, attending the same Sunday School, playing in the same cricket team, finally coming to intimacy, the ideals and pursuits of J. W. S. flowed into our common chat. Condemned, as he was, to toil from boyhood in the mine, and also to environment that wounded his
