LADIES' EXPRESS.

Poverty Bay Standard, Volume III, Issue 278, 5 June 1875, Page 2

LADIES' EXPRESS.

The Editor will be glad to give insertion to any local contributions from his lady friends that may be .considered interesting in the family circle, or to the sex generally.] — :o: THE MARINER'S DEPARTURE. Duet fob Music. I— Female Solo. Oh ! venture not upon tho ocean, The storiu is raging loud and wild ; The sea is toss’d in great commotion, Stay with thy wife and infant child. Tho dark’ning clouds still deeper lour, And hide each heavenly beam of light; The boist’rous wind still gathers power — Oh, venture not to sea to-night I Duet.

Hark 1 how the gath’ring storm is moaning, And now tho fearful lightnings Hash ; It seems expiring Nature’s groaning Whene’er the dreadful thunders crash. 2 — Male Solo. Fear not, tho’ storms may sweep the billows, Dread lightnings flash and thunders peal, I Oft chasing sleep from downy pillows, And causing fear o’er hearts to steal. L A sailor is inured to dangers, He's braved them from his infancy : I And tempests arc to hitn no strangers, He fears them not upon the sea. Duet. Tho’ air and sea may fiercely battle, And sad wrecks strew around our sphere, I There’s One above their din and rattle I Who guides their wild and mod career. I 3.— Female Solo. But when the tempest, like a giant, Wild rages o’er the land and sea; And when the Heav’ns look dark—defiant, I fear some harm may happen thee. And deep ou- unavailing sorrow Would be for hearts so kind—so brare, If it were told upon tho morrow Thy bark had founder’d in the wave. Duef„ - Tho’ oft exposed to ev’ry weather, A furious gale, or zephyr’s breath—• So soft it scarce could waft a feather— The sky to-night seems robed in death. 4— Male Solo. Chase from thy brow that look of sadness, And smile thy brightest smile for me, That I may bear thy look of gladness To many a distant stormy sea. And if on rolling main to perish, Good Heav’n hath writ my fate to be, I only ask that thou wilt cherish Me fondly in thy memory. Duet. Go, go, thy heart no danger fearing, Where’er thy paths of duty lie ; When Sorrows sablest shades are nearing, The hand of Providence is nigh 1 F.J.P. Gisborne, N.Z., June 4th, 1875. fThe foregoing is original from the pen of an esteemed contributor, and is now being set to music by a resident in Gisborne, well and favorably known in musical circles. We trust soon to have the gratification of announcing its completion.—Ed. S.J

RAPTURE

We watched the sunset at tho close of day, As, hand in hand we sat together there— While, blown against my eheek, her fallen hair Thrilled mo like music, and my heart was May. The blushing clover blossoms kissed her feet. While to my heart I pressed her willing hand, Moro fair I thought her than in all the land Could any flower be, however sweet. The sinking sunshine lay across her breast, As if it clasped her in its arms of gold—And to itself her fairy form would fold, And, dying so, would be more sweetly blest, Not jealous of the flowers or sun am I; But, Oil I my darling, love me or I die 1