Select Poetry.

Lyttelton Times, Volume VI, Issue 375, 7 June 1856, Page 8

Select Poetry.

EVELYN HOPE,

Beautiful Evelyn Hope is dead— ' Sit and watch by her side an lioar. Thatig her book-shelf, this her bed ; She plucked that piece of geraniam-flower, Beginning to die too, in the glass. Little has yet been changed, I think— The shatter* are shut, no light may pass Save two long rays through the hinges chink. Sixteen years old when she died! Perhaps she had scarcely heard my nameIt was not her time to love: beside, Her life had many a hope and aim, Duties enough and little cares, And now was quiet, now astir— JTill God's hand beckoned unawares, And the sweet white brow is all of her. Is it too late, then, Evelyn Hope ? What, your soul was pure and true, * The good stars met in your horoscope, Made you of spirit, fire and dew— And just because I was thrice as old, And our paths in the world diverged so wide, Each was nonght to each, must I be told ? We were fellow mortals, nonght beiide? No, indeed I for God above Is great to grant, as mighty to make, And creates the love to reward the love, — I claim yon still, for my own love's sake! Delayed it may be for more lives yet, Throogh worlds I shall traverse, not s few— Much is to learn and much to forget Ere the time be come for taking you. But the time will come—at last it will— When, Evelyn Hope, what meant, I shall say, In the lower earth, in the years long still, That body and soul so pure and gay ? Whyyonr hair was amber I shall divine, And your mouth of yonr own geranium's red, And what you would do with me, in fine, In the new life come in the old one's stead. I have lived, I shall say, so much since then, Given up myself co many times, Gained me the gains of various men, Bansacked the ages, spoiled the climes ; Yet one thing, one, in my soul's fnll^scopp, Either I missed or itself missed me— And I want and find you, Evelyn Hope! What is the issue ? Let ns see. I loved you, Evelyn, all the while; My heart seemed full as it could hold; There was place and to spare for the frank young smile And the red young mouth and the hair's young gold. So, hash, I will give you this leaf to keep; See, I shut it inside the sweet cold hand. There, that is our secret! go to sleep; Ton will awake, and remember, and understand." KOBEBT BbOWNING.