Original Poetry.

Evening Star, Issue 4195, 7 August 1876, Page 4

Original Poetry.

GOOD-BYE. .Good-bye, the word sinks in my heart, The tears start in my eyes, And memory brings a darkened room ' Where childhood's beauty lies; i r So-young,: so fair, and life is o'er . Bee the first dreams of youth '■■ That sweetly beamedone shadow wore, • "" Gfniocked the dreamer's truth, t-'" ■'■ -'••' '*■■•■''"->".: A. -...'..:. •: Good-byeyit is a' mother's: voice, _ ( ~.. And bending-o'er her child, *'-* '•' She%noo%he£ the hair, 'she kissed/She lips ~.„ Thai once so sweetly smiled ; ; ' Ifet friar can say-how hard-the.stroke When the last word had come, And the stern Angel death had broke The* circle, of Jier homo* j , jjGtopd-bye, so falteringly 'tis said,, And in the weeping eyes Of the fair girl that bends her head A. deepening shadow lies; Ah, ©hide me not, although I grieve In the long,days to, come, Tkese" tears are all' that time will leara ; Of eountry, friends,, or home/ • - r ; . Ckwd-bye, and furrpwed cheeks ■ " The Bitter 'tear-drops fell; v - " *'. ■:; ~, „ .Yan, that-frail, trembling voico.that "speaks Speaks in a last •farewelljj ;■ - Never again;to meet thy gaze ':■ Upon an earthly shore— Yet sometimes hear in o'Eher days The voiece that warns no more. Good-jbyeMjah, yes, in every breast Some sadder scene 'twill bring, Some hopes, some dreams, long laid to rest, Comeiback on memory's wing. ■ Yet should we-grieve that these are oeri AnxHears "bedim our eye; • *TiB never hard on that'folest shore That bitter word, 'Qood-bye. ''-"'' \ ''.""'' Kitty.;

SELF-CONSCIOUS. \ „_ {Queen.) ..->"-; Jhe: selj^consciousneaa; of vanity is ene things the self-consciousness of shyness another. - It is all very wel| for ,ft Jatttsphjasiciatis: to try an'dlprove that; theL.j^fo^areridentical,. ~,as they try to prove that charity and generosity are" £ 5 merely sejfijihness under an,ojih«r,name, Because every man doesi what Jie,.. likes * tregfrtq" dq; and if he fjkes to be gerfe-; likesi tb ! be charitable, it is giily following out his own inclinations, ;and np one <? tte)ed praise him... It is selfish*ii*di mask, .'and ;with|iafiotber a pretty one, yet always'selfish. So with self-consciousnesi If §fiy- the metai J?!^ s jj?!?.5 s > J 011 " m «st needs be vain, . o^'^^ metaphysicians, there are*iwd. forms of "self-conscious?.-.. . ~ JiesSj md that ;#hich springy from shy- '* ' ifrjp.. with' that Which springs from vanity. Whoever" 1 suffers from the self-con- ,•>. * ss£oubj«§£ Pi? ashyness,. pf ; timidity, of Benßitiveness, knows an amount oi para such "weakness can well understand. To be perpetuallyhaunted-'hy the feeling that one has done -something wrong or said' of .itself a torture that would almost wipe away the stain of a serious offence by the virtue which •>-_• ' Be« m<puijshmept, "J&ifr'the of y /i ]fjairXd ii.alrripsfc always about little trifles,. which are ■fe.ally,. no • consequence one . .way or other, but which the exaggerat- . tog fancy; of 'the self-conscious makes , , .Into absolute misfortunes, or, if; it: should be jtliafc way,.into real crimes. '' >- —All of us at times speak too fast, with too little' consideration of hoV our'

words may sound arid be taken by the P£^fiarervr . Hence, we say things, t-Uat we "regret, and things' that we 'do not mean—things, that bear a double construction the farthest removed from our .X- intention-, -and'-'which strikes our our ; n 'Benses only when too late to be rei l -To apologise for the meaning that may be found beneath would be to flounder only the deeper in the mite. For there is just the one- hope that when you speak of les noiwecmx riches with a sniff of dis- _ dam to anyone, he will not take your sniff in any way to himself. But if pressed by self-consciousness you apologise and say, "I did not mean you," he can then have no doubt as to the ': possibility of the application and his own position in your estimate of things. .... • You mightnot have really meant him -■when you spoke so scornfully of the iiew rich, and their ways and works • but to aeknowledge that your words could have struck him is to concede ... the whole question, and your friend is justly annoyed at your blunder. An unconscious person who had made the oime mistake would not have apologised—would probably not have seen • smt it was a mistake at all. bttfause of . tha.t very want, of self-consciousness, I

c hence the feelings of the person already alluded to would not have beer wpunded, as he would, in the firsi place, have seen that he was not meant and in the second, would not be forcec $0 understand that he might have beer alluded to—only he wasn't. Mean while the poor self-conscious tripper .- suffers torments, has a sleepless night, and cannot look his friend in the tact tranquilly for weeks after. •"• ■■ This is one form of misery produced by self-consciousness, when allied with a kind heart, a hatred of giving pain, 'and the terrible habit of believing thought to ; be transparent—that 'for —^•Xficy.ffleritaL,exe^t]iere..is. ji hook all ready for, attachment,-.and-that the mass of mankind is as conscious as oneself. Another form is the more familiar and r. .more personal one' of thinking that • everything done or said by oneself is "hideous, wrong, detestable, .ridiculous, ;> and, being wrong and ridiculous' then secretly condemned and ridiculed. This is the kind of thing known to us all either in others, or,: more unfortunately, in our•■•..selves ; and the anguish induced by the state; of mind included in such *?»'jeif-depreciation ia, as we said before,

to lie understood', only by those who I know and feel it for themselves. I But if these poor, sensitive, selfconscious creatures suffer for their ewn I parts, so are they cause of suffering in others. It is painful beyond measure to be. with these people—conscious as they are- from the crown of their head to the soles of their feet, and conscious in a writhing, humble, self-abased way which it hurts one's common humanity to see. They take such a quantity of attention, and assurance to satisfy! They have to be stimulated with such a large amount of moral cordial, of mental pick-me-ups, that no one's patience can bear the strain for long • and even the kindest heart in the world gives way before the task of perpetually soothing the poor humble things into serenity, of perpetually stimulating them, not to selfrespect, but to a momentary calm which looks something like it and is the nearest to which they can get I Life is too serious and time is too short to spend on shadows ; and the miseries of the self-conscious are shadows in which ! the only thing that is real is the pain. But when we have assured them again "and again that it all means nothing—that their sorrows come from nothing, are born •of nothing, are only the sotrows/of shadows—we get weaiy of our task of vain convincing,. and let them:go on in their voluntary martyrdom, hopeless of ever doing them the smallest, good. .

The self-consciousness of shyness, of timidity, is painful; the self-con-sciousness of vanity irritating. It is at all: times detestable, even when seen in a woman. The men of whom the' Highland piper, the French tambourmqjor, the renowned Mr Turveydrop [ are the .types, are in a Qertain sense absurd, if also they aire wearisome, by their intense vanity and display. So are the piggish men.who .put their solvation in one particular form of thought, and". who reject as comrnon and unclean all those who differ from them in opinion, or who- have put their saivatf on elsewhere. The self-consciousness of these men is in itself a study that almost repays the fatigue of their society. Speak to one of t'hem on his own subject, and you speak to a man who shows you that he accepts your interest in the matter as a compliment paid to him personally,, "he being to himself the soul of the whole thing v Thus, when you say to one of this kind that you - delight in mu.sic, he smiles with satisfaction, because' lie has a fine tenor voice, and of course you must mean him ; or when you say that you are fond :of poetry, he, having written a few stanzas in the corner of a provincial newspaper, looks radiant with self-conscious applause, for poetry means himself, and to praise the art is to praise him and what he! had done. In just the same way, talk to a woman with handsome Byes of the beauty lying in fine eyes generally, arid she takes the compliment-, to herself in particular.; To one who has a pretty foot, are not " feet " the battery by which the electric current of self-consciousness is flashed through the whole being % And so on through the entire list of personal charms. Name one of which a woman knows that she is the possessor, and you see at once the smile, and glance, and flush of Belf-consGiou.sne.sß which tell you everything. When you find a woman who is not thus self-conscious, I you have found a treasure as rare as I the black swan, or as modesty in that I " talented person " who has lear- llt many things superficially, and no' on ;'' well. ' °

' F°r feminine self - eConsciousness mothers and nurses, a^ d governesses aro mostly to blame, Worse educated than boys, girls a- e muob more mani lated. From their earliest years they are taught \& think of themselves, and consider their actions as boys, healthily brought m ?x never are. They must not nmg themselves about, and they must spread seir little skirts gracefully whoa, i*hey sit down; they are canturned to be "modest," when what the toohah, instructress reviles is in ite. essence modesty because it is inn.tv cence, what she teaches is in its essence less modesty than self-consciousness-and they are drilled into "elegance'' which means that they are drilled out of all the gracefulness of nature, andmade artificial and affected by the laws of good breeding, and to suit Mrs Grundy's views. I

■ A 1 reach Sportsman. - Keepar .- < \ Why ditin t you hre the o'-ber barrel, m'seer the other ban-el at the last bird?" Monsieur T I tTX A& hj ! ? tlid fire ze odher barreT Ido fare bodt barrels tngezzer I /nd in mv own country 1 do shoot ze lark at twenty twenty-five, and sometimes dir y yards-when he.stand quite still ! Your dogs' Jey tJe » birds to fly away"- (insinuatingly)-" and rev must be fatigued, hj ere is money. Take zem and buy zem sometings to eat! Leave me to make my own dugs myself!'"—.« Punch.'

The Beecher Cnse.—lt is universally admuted that a boy between the age of ten and sixt-en J" the „ ™ ost exasperating nuisance in the> world. The other evening one of these wret hed creatures stalked into a parlor full of company and ad ressi..g his father in the cur. this 1 hear about our minister ?'» Thereupon S Z"nrU the d 'f p,efleot cAsif startled l„Vta about them and then ''lit out "of th„ apart" meht-m con ideraWe confusion.-'Brooklyn His Pay.-*' What's the matter, uncle Jerry ?' said a bystander, as an old inn w.-« passing hy prowling moat furiously. « Matter'" cried the old man, stopping »hort, " Why here have I been drawing water all the mom! in« for Dr Crawdle's wife, au d what d'yo s pose I got for it ?' " Why, I sup; ose about a shilling waß t ii e rep]y- «« BhlUi , she told me the doctor would pull out a tooth for me some day. A Useful Gun -An hotol-koeper at a station ll r„» r L ' Clf ! e J ;i lil i oad is to call f ffl J 0 , 1 " 11 "* Vy i tl,s « ha 'WnK i M barrel L, ' l ebai 'ri k " U , lt B U,! - Ho serves the other barrel to ujlleot the dme s'money