HER MILKING PAIL.

Pukekohe & Waiuku Times, Volume 5, Issue 231, 1 December 1916, Page 5 (Supplement)

HER MILKING PAIL.

When Doris took her milking-pail To cross the dewy meadow; The eastern sky was golden pale, The valley lay in shadow; I followed slowly, not too near, And softly, lest the maid should hear The wet, white daisies bent to touch Her slender foot, and kiss it; I envied them this pleasure much, Since I'd been doomed to miss it; And thought the flowers were treated far More kindly than some lovers are! Behind a thorn I stood to watch Her coax the cow, and chide her; And humming at a merry catch, Set the small stool beside her; While freshly, as she could have wished. The milk through dimpled fingers swished? Thought I, "This chance I must not miss! Her milk-pail home I'll carry; And in return, demand a kiss, For milkmaids are not chary; The poets sing: If swains be brave. Hence, my reward I'll boldly crave." But when at length I would have stept Toward the maid with fervour, Young Stephen o'er the hedge had leapt With like intent to serve her; And lest this chance might later fail. Took, first, a kiss, and then, the pail! Unseen, I sought a shaded path. And left the lovers cooing; But now my verso a moral hath: Whatever's worth the doing Youl'l find —each day the story tells— Is being done by someone else! (This picturesque little ballad is quoted in "The Literary Digest" (New York) from "The Wind-Swept Bridge" 'by Marv Ainge de Vere ("Madeline Bridges".)