Original Poetry.

Southland Times, Issue 967, 12 June 1868, Page 3

Original Poetry.

I OANN A LITE ALANfI. By Johk &. Smith. Come hame, my am dear wifikia, Te've been away owre lang ; I miss the witchery o' yere smil«, The magic o' yere sang. I mies yere lore-lit e'e that shone On me sac kind an' fain ; Alake ! lam a weary man, I canna live alane. The bird that sits on yonder spray Is happier far than me. _ His mate is cliirmin' by his side, His heart is fu' o' glee. It is a heaven for him to ken That she is a' his am; Were she to flee awa — he'd dee, He couldna lire alane. See yonder proud an' pauchtie wight, His thoughts are a' on pelf; And on that little dot which forms, His warld — his all — himself j Without a care for ithers' care, A maen for ither's maen, E'en let him drie his weired — for me I canna lire alane. I aften think I see yere form, At the saft gloamin' tide, Wi' little Josie on yere knee, An' Willie at yere side. An' then the gloamin' gray will creep, Out ower my weary brain, An' cast its shadows on my heart, I canna live alane. This warld hauds mony a precious gem ; A kind frien's smilin face An' lauchin weans about yere knee Awa yere cares may chase But when yere wifie's chair is tooxn Their wiles are a' in vain, Come hame, my am dear wilikie, I canna lire alane.