Ladies' Express.

Poverty Bay Standard, Volume III, Issue 437, 16 December 1876, 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 any family circle, or to the sex generally] DAY DREAMS OF THE PAST. There are some scenes, which time nor place Can ever from the mind efface— Which linger fresh as hawtaorn spray, When changeful years have passed away. With some mysterious touch replete, ’They seek us in our lone retreat; A fairy mist around us east, And paint again the distant past. Our thoughts on dreamy pinions speed, Nor of the wreck of time take heed ; But span the past and present o’er— As bridges spread from shore to shore Then, in the empty air we trace Some well known form, some much lov’d face ; Which, may be, never more we’ll see Save pictured in the memory. Again our childhood’s home we view Where life appeared of golden hue — A placid stream that onward sped Without a rock or shoal ahead. Some hallow’d spot we tread again, That fixed is ever in the brain ; Forgetful of the change that’s wrought, We live those scenes again in thought. As through the gale-driv'n clouds the rays Will sometimes burst on darkest days, Illuminating for awhile The prospect drearr us with a smile ; So faithful mem’ry casts its light, Through Sorrow’s saddest, sablest, night; Till fulls its beam on some bright spot, .Which in life’s storm is oft forgot. Then will fond looks which love convey— Alas 1 that such should puss away— Eyes sparkling with a kindly glance, Our spell-bound souls and minds entrance. The pressure of a hand again, The warm blood sends through every vein ; And tears of sympathy will flow For those we loved, ah ! long ago. And, musing thus in Fancy’s train, Each mem’ry dear we entertain ; ’Till words long lost in air we hear, As though the fond ones still were near. But oh! what sadness fills the mind When fades the fabric, and we find .These fancy-painted seeues are only Day dreams, whichleave the heart more lonely. F.J.P. Gisborne, Deo. 1876.