POETRY

Auckland Times, Volume 1, Issue 5, 19 September 1842, Page 4

POETRY

[select.] PRIMROSE DELL. ■ Oh Mary I I was thinking now, llow time hath past away, since we First owned our love beneath the bough Of that wide-spreading old oak tree. * * * * Remember you the rushing Weir, That threw its foam-bells at our feet '1 Making a holy murmur there — A mournful sound—yet, oh, how sweet! Your hand, dear Mary, was in mine— We saw the water-lillies move ; And when our fingers dared to twine, We felt the thrill of youthful love. Have you forgot the village-chime That sounded through the listening wood. Ringing o’er beds ot fragrant thyme, Which rose, like incense, where we stood ; And saw the bending wild-fiowers close Their sleepy eyes upon the dew, Sinking, unhushed, in soft repose, Beneath a sky of cloudless blue 1 Remember you, how twilight grey Stole o’er us ere we were aware 1 You harkening to that blackbird’s lay, - AVhile I stood watching your long hair, With which the wanton night-breeze played, Baring your neck of veined snow, And waving wide both curl and braid, Like silken banners to and fro. Have you forgot how deep you sighed 1 — Mary, that night I marked you well, — My own within my breast had died, Like sighs heaved in some soundless cell : I wished them not to reach your ear, But when your own white bosom raised, Mine swelled above the rushing Weir, And then—upon your face I gazed. Your deep blue eyes, my girl, met mine ; A moment they but deigned to rest. And turned to where the stats did shine, Then sank abashed upon your breast. J|j| Our hands closed of their own accord, , The waters sang along the shore, We stood, but neither spake a word We ne’er were mute so long before. *«* . * * Wq heard the clock at midnight sound— We stood amid the moonlight pale, For then our tongues a theme had found ; We gazed upon the outstretched vale ; Our fancies built a cottage there — The spot I yet remember well, ’Twas in a glen beside the Weir, And we had called it “ Primrose Dell.” Thomas Miller.