AT BRIDGE.
She still sits at bridge at midnight, As the; clocks are striking the hour; N'o thought of her home or her family To move her have the power. flow often, oh, how often, Hammer and winter through, lias she sat thus at bridge at midnight Ay, sometimes till one and two ! And how often, oh, how often Through the golden hours of day, Has she striven with others like her For purse or prize at play ! And for ever and for ever, While this fad our fair land sweeps Will she bridge the interval daily 'Twixt the time she wakes and sleeps ! So she still sits at bridge at midnight, And pride in her bosom stirs, For she holds the best score of a series And the tournament trophy is hers !
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https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/KCC19120504.2.40
Bibliographic details
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King Country Chronicle, Volume VI, Issue 462, 4 May 1912, Page 7
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133AT BRIDGE. King Country Chronicle, Volume VI, Issue 462, 4 May 1912, Page 7
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