SELECT POETRY.

Hawke's Bay Times, Volume 6, Issue 326, 23 November 1865, Page 1

SELECT POETRY.

CONSTANT LOVE. Nay, tell me not my dearest, That time has dimm'd thine eye; Still, still, my path thou cheereat, As in days that we gone hy. Say not thy cheek is faded, By sorrows, cares, and fears. That thy brow is somewhat shaded By the clouds of other years. If time much more had taken, I could forgive each theft; Whilst thy heart remained unshaken. And its love for me was left. I, too, am something older Thau when I met with thee; But hearts become no colder, If they are what hearts should be. Thy own has never altered. As years have o’er me past; Thy love has never faltered, When my brow has been o’ercast. Then tell me not of changes In cheek, or brow, or hair; — The love such loss estranges. Must he lighter far than air, Though morning’s early splendour May raptures thrill impart, The vesper hour, more tender, Sinks deeper in the heart. Though spring he gay with roses. And summer skies are clear, — Tet autumn’s hand encloses The rich harvest of the year. E’en age’s wintry weather Inspires no thought of gloom. In hearts that share together Hopes of bliss beyond the tomb. BERNARD BARTON. —Family Economist.