LADIES’ EXPRESS.

Poverty Bay Standard, Volume III, Issue 272, 15 May 1875, Page 2

LADIES’ EXPRESS.

o The Editor will be glad to give insertion to any local contributions from his ladyfrienas that may be considered interesting in the family circle, or to the sex generally J]

o I LOVE BUT THEE.

If, after all, you still will doubt and fear me, And think this heart to other loves will stray ; If I must swear, then, lovely doubter hear me : By every dream I have when thou’rt away, By every throb I feel when thou art near me, I love but thee! I love but thee I

By those blue eyes, where light is ever playing,— Where Love, in depth of shadow, holds his throne ; And by those lips, which give whate’er thou’rt , saying, Be it grave or gay, a music of its own— A music far beyond all minstrel’s playing, I love but thee 1 I love but thee I

By that fair brow, where innocence reposes, As pure as moonlight sleeping upon snow ; And by that cheek, whose fleeting blush discloses A hue too bright to bless this world below, And only fit to dwell on Eden’s roses, I love but thee! I love but thee I

A OAD TO VIRTEU.

The Lay uv the Brass Minstrel. (From the Wanganui Chronicle) Hale Virtue! Let me strok thy beerdless face My handmed, often saving me disgrace, When fust my pennie whissl I did try With cheek distendid—such my povertie No handmed washt fur me, nun opt my dore, The mud I gathurd, I with pashens bore Outside the kerb ov the luvd pubs I stude And pipt—the lams within I fondlic vfoo’d, Ther koppur pense T gathurd, sloe alas, I mettid thees, my trumpits now uv bras, Yet strange! when simpl peepl heer it bloan Tba alwais say, this trumpit iz my oan. But thou, fair Virteu, heer me pashentlie ; This thing uv bras must now be blone fur thee. I bio thee, thour’t my kreed, no praktis mine, Leev praktisto Religion’s bigot lin, How oft thy limelie sukkar brot me thru, Winkt at me when to flee and when persue, Whitewash the racehorse, hosis and fast men, The betting stand, the fleecing gamblers den, Even dogs must liv, why then refuse a boan To this meek Pariah breed, I kannotoan. Tims without my owlet i Winkt at the drunkMkn the gutturlie,

Oft have I seen them hurrid to the tume Graves bi the duzzen treshurthem till dume ; But then the statelie march in Bawl And golem praer attend their pall. Tis rawt to me tho men like dogs may liv. Tis small akkount about thear death 1 giv ; But to be berried like a dog, what horror, I nearly splits my trumpit out uv sorror. The grevyard and the pub, alike gro fat; The drunkard’s future, what kar I for that; His children and his wife in want may pine, For pubs must liv, or how kud we get wine. But tis, when iernid parsons kros my path Qwite bewtiful to se my virtewus rath. 1 gather up the mud so near my hand, Charge full my bras, then bio it oar the land. Kelijus parsuns always plug my life, A red rag to my i, a boan uv strife. Im ' orse with bloing at| them can thro bras Til frend and fo agree they heer an as. But maiden virteu, hearken now to me, Within by bonnet thar has kum a be. I now aspire to things pollytical, Kum, help me through the matters kritticul, I want a seat, I find my frame unsteddy, Kontinned trumpeting has made me giddy. My kreed is thia : the provinces go smash, Thais plane, it needs no jenius, saves the kash. Im for tetotal, so was Fox, fare wind to him ; Ow hark me, let me sit, wont I square into him • On edication dont let parsons in, Twould be the deluge Babels very din, But ninepins rat her, they can do no harm ; Ow maiden heer me, take my trimbling arm ; At your safe side 111 venture futh to st and, Abuses feigned that feel my burnin brand. You’ll give me easy access mong the best, My brother scavengers whip in the rest, I’ll bully the hard-headed, ’tis my role, The soft ones I’ll lay sauder to their sole, By fair or foul means I must win this race, ’Tis but a stepping-stone, I want a place, A billet snug in ease and wealth to be, And then, O happy day, I’ll marry thee.

A Mrs. Olsen, of Salt Lake, makes public declaration that in her opiuion polygamy is as good for women as for men, and that she would like three husbands —one to live with and love, and the other two to help to support her. Rather Hot. —At a dinner party in town last August there were two sisters present, one a widow who had just emerged from her weeds, the other not long married, whose husband had lately gone out to India for a short term. A young barrister present was deputed to take the widow in to dinner. Unfortunately he was under the impression that his partner was the married lady whose husband had just arrived in India. The conversation between them commenced by the lady’s remarking how’ extremely hot it was. “Yes, it is very hot,” —returned the young barrister. Then a happy thought suggested itself to him, and he added, with a cheerful smile, “ But not so hot as the place to which your husband has gone.” The look with which the lady answered this “ happy thought” will haunt that youth to his death.