Select Poetry.

Akaroa Mail and Banks Peninsula Advertiser, Volume V, Issue 468, 18 January 1881, Page 3

Select Poetry.

WHAT MY LOVER SAID,

By tiio merest ch.iuce, in tho twilight gloom, In the orchard path ho met me— In the tall, wet grays, with its faint perfume, And I tried to pass, but he made no room : Oli, I tried, but lie would not let inc. So I stood and blushed till the grass grew red, Wih my faco bent down above it, While he took my hand, as he whispering said ■ How the clover lifted each pink sweet head, To listen to all that my lover said ; Oh, tho clover in bloom, I love it. In tho high, wet grass wont the path to hide, And the low wet leaves hung over ; But I could not pass upon either side, For I found myself, when I vainly tried, In the arms of my steadfast lover ; And he held me there, and he raised my head, While he closed the path before me ; And he looked down into my eyes and said How the leaves bent down from tho boughs o'erhead, To listen to all that my lover said ; Oh, the leaves hanging lowly o'er me. Had he moved aside but a little way, I could surely then have passed him ; And he knew 1 never could wish to stay, And would not have heard what he had to say Could I only aside have cast him ; It was almost dark, and the moments sped, , And the searching night-wind found us; But he drew me nearer, and softly said— How tho pure, sweet wind grew still, instead, To listen to all that my lover said ; Oh, the whispering wind around us. I am sure he knew, when ho held me fast, That I must be all unwilling ; For I tried to go, and I would have passed, As the night was come with its dew at last, And the sky with its stars was filling ; But he clasped me close when I would have fled, And he made me hear his story, And his soul came out from his lips and said— How the stars crept out, where the white moon led, To listen to all that my lover said ! 01), the moon and the stars in glory ! I know that the grass and the leaves will not tell, And I'm sure that the wind, precious rover, Will carry his secret so safely and well, That no being shall ever discover One wort! of the many that rapidly fell From the eager lips of my lover, And the moon and the ttars that looked over, Shall never reveal what a fr.iry-like spell They wove round about us that night in the dell, In tho path through tho dew-laden clover ; Nor echo the whispers that made my heart swell, As llioy fell from the lips of my lover.