WORDS FOR PARTING.

Poverty Bay Standard, Volume III, Issue 224, 21 November 1874, Page 2

WORDS FOR PARTING.

Oh ! what shall I do, dear, In the coming years I wonder, When our paths which lie so sweetly near, Shall then lie far asunder ? Oh 1 what shall I do, dear, Through all the sad to-morrows, When the sunny smile has ceased to cheer, That smiles away my sorrows ?

Oh ! what shall I do, dear, When you are gone for ever ? My heart its eager need will send Through the years to find you, never. And how will it be with you Iu the weary world I wonder ? Will you love me with a lore as true When our paths lie far asunder ?

A sweeter, sadder thing, My life for having known you, For ever with my sacred kin, My soul’s soul I must own you. For ever mine my love, From June to life’s December, Not mine to have or hold, But to pray for and remember.

The way is short my friend That reaches out before us; But the bright Heavens above us blend, And Love is smiling o’er us. A little while is ours, For sorrow or for laughter: I'll lay the hand you lone in yours On the shore of the Hereafter. US. DOMESTIC SCENE. Husband —“ Well, wife, I’ve squared up —settled all my bills, even to the little trinketsl gavethe childrenon Christmas." Wife —“ Well, dear, lam truly glad of it. lam glad you have paid for our weekly paper, for I hate to be reading it when I know it costs so much to print it, and yet it is so cheap.” Husband—“ Oh ! wife : I forgot that; but then, I suppose the publishers are not anxious about money ; it is such a small amount.”

Wife—“ Yes, but there may be hundreds just like you, who forget the printer, and don’t you know a hundred would amount to quite a sum ? Do go and settle that bill, and let us read our paper.” Husband—“ I never thought of it in that way, wife. You are right. We ought not to expect a man to use his capital for the benefit of others and wait so long for a return; besides, all our other papers demand pay in advance.” Wife—“ Yes, you ought to take consolation in the sentence—■' the poor ye have always with you,’ and you would keep them poor by neglect.” The husband scratches his head, and concludes that he has not acted just square with the printer, and appears very restless.

We think that wife knows what justice is, and we know just how her fingers burn when she picks up a newspaper which she knows has not been paid for. Every case of repentance will be duly and gladly noted down in our cash book, and we know of plenty of them who are in the “ gall of, bitterness and the bond of iniquity.”—American Paper.

A CERTAIN little damsel, having been aggravated beyond endurance by her brother, plumped down on her knees and cried, “O, Lord ! bless tny brother Tom. He lies, he steals, he swears; all boys do, us girls don’t. Amen.”

“ I tell you," said a Wisconsin roan to a neighbour next day after burying his wife, “ when I came to get in bed and lay thar, and not hearing Lucinda jawing around for an hour and a half, it just made me feel as if I’d moved into a strange country.” . ’ “So you take lessons in drawing, Sallie ?” “ Yes. and the teacher says I’m an apt pupil, as I draw more-inferences, insinuations, and admirers, than any girl in the academy.” 'The American young ladies having, it is said, decided that squinting shall be the fashion this winter, are now laboriously cultivating a peculiarly fascinating inversion of the eyes. Parisian ladies are wearing carring representing monkeys, guinea-pigs, lizards, chandeliers with caudles in them, birdcages, with birds within, tortoises, spades, spurs, tongs, officers’ epaulettes, &c. The effect is not pleasing; On the contrary. A considerable change is taking place in the fashion of our coiffures. The new style adopted by our most elegant yrandes dames is both simple and becoming. I must try to give as exact a description as possible of it. It is very easy, if the hair is tolerably long and thick, to abstain from adding to it any false tresses. The whole back hair is loosely plaited very high behind (it must not be tied.) After widening it as much as possible, fold it upon itself so as to form a sort of loop, falling over the neck. Then fasten it with a comb, and form another similar loop at the top. A bow of faille or velvet is placed between the two loops, and seems to fasten them. The front hair is arranged into coques, or a large loose 8. If the hair is sufficiently thick, but too short to be plaited, it can be waved, and disposed thus into loops fastened in the same manner by the ribbon or velvet bow. When the hair is quite short and thin, the best part of it must be kept for the front, and the rest be used to fasten on a plaited chignon, disposed according to the description. This radical change in coiffures forebodes an equivalent one in bonnets. We may, then, reasonably hope that next winter our present extravagant head-gear will have died a natural and well-deserved death.

The Wife’s Answer. — A husband, finding a piece broken out of his plate and another out of his saucer, petulantly exclaipied to his wife: “My dear, it seems to me that everything belonging to you is broken.”—“Well yes.” responded the wife ; “ even you seem to be a little cracked.”

Love is Life— Love is life. Selfishness is death. Think of one who has no throb outside of himself: is he not entombed in a grave darker than that of earth ? The moment one begins to love, if only a dog, he begins to live. To lore something that is different from one’s self—a flower, a star, a human soul—what is in it, what stir of all the faculties! How it flows and streams away on every side, in love of father and mother, sister and brother, husband and wife, and friend and little children, of the tiniest speck and grandest orb. We rejoice in all things. Every sound is a delight.