TO POESY.

Te Aroha News, Volume V, 3 December 1887, Page 3

TO POESY.

W. Tv Wills.

Thou'rfc like a white-faced nun that knows no sin, O ! Would T were a priest to clwoll within Thy holy fano ; to live ji devotee. So J might worship ns I sing of thee, I've roamed, a pilgrim round a barren gloho To kiss the border of thy heaven-flamed robe ! And scorched my soul when too near thy loved throne, \'ct I cling to thee— my beautiful, my own. And yet thou art so coy ; but, goddess fair, 1 would not have thee bold for fools to staro Into thy soul. In strongest towers keep Ivisaea for those who love thee, pure and deep I hear thee whiap'ring to the sleeping flow'rs. And singing anthems in the woodland bowers ; 0 leach me, love, that magic lore of thine That turns earth's weakest song to melody divine. E"en let me die, so 'tis in thy fair arms, Pic, ever singing of thy godlike charms. What care I, sweet, so thou dost recompense With smilos of love, my own frail recklessness. Thou comest like a maid to meet her love, 1 hear thee trilling to the woodland dove ; And the flowers kiss the "music of thy feet," But I will kiss thy soul, love, when we meet.