Original Poetry.

Evening Star, Issue 4107, 26 April 1876, Page 4

Original Poetry.

BESIDE THE SEA;

Far down beside the restless sea. Where the wild winds play, Whispering strange sad tales to me, I’ve passed the hours away; Heedless how soon the long day sped Or what it held in store, Dreaming of what the wild waves said—■ Down, down beside the shore.

It was not much, I did not care To hear an anxious tone— Thoughtless of what their feelings were, Should I be pleased alone ; Watching the wild waves floating past, Hearing their sullen roar, I felt the moments fled too fast Down, down beside the shore.

O’er the waves, the flapping sail Glides far across the bay, How soon beneath the gentle gale It speeds from sight away ; Now rising on the foaming crest, Now sinking lost once more— These are the thoughts that filled my breast, Down, down beside the shore.

But peaceful night in facing light— Its warning finger shows, And struggling through the clouds of night The evening starlight glows ; Is it a pain, a foolish pain ? To feel those hours are o’er, Ah, let me dream my dreamt again— Down, down beside the shore. Kitty.

TO J. G. S. GRANT, TRADUCER-IN-CHIEF OF OTAGO,

O Grant! do grant us our request; Which if thou grant us we’ll be blest; Grant that you write not till you’re wanted, And our best wishes will be .granted. E’en grant that what you write is true, It comes with au ill grace from you To grunt against the ivof that covers you.