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Colonist, Volume III, Issue 246, 28 February 1860, Page 3

Select Poetrs.

LOVE'S YOUNG DREAM-NO W-A-DAYS. Oil! tell me not that distant seas Roll wide between me and my lover ; For he I'm sure, is at his ease— And I'm in glover. And don't tell me that foreign parts Will ever make me, dear, forget him; Nor will he take to breaking hearts, Unless I let him. He writes to me by every post, And every post takes back my answer ; He writes of " muffins," sleighs, and frost— I of my dancer. So don't tell me that I must mope, While he's in Canada recruiting; He's neither Bishop, Saint, nor Pope, And fond of shooting. I wish you'd write to him some day, How very badly I'm behaving ; He'd send word back at once to say, He thought you raving. He likes my going to a ball, And talking German with Lord Rowan; D'you think that out at Montreal, He flirts with no one ? Ah! you don't know him, I must own, I've seen you flirt, my pretty cousin; But Willy soon would flirt you down, And several dozen. Don't talk such sentimental stuff; You preach as if I were a baby ; As Willy says I'm '■ not a muff," Nor he "a gaby.'' I know he's very fond of me-— I know I'm very Vnd of Willy.; ; And as to doubt^ **■"'' We're not s^, qlly. We both i^nd to have our fun, And then to marry one another;. And as the music is begun, Pray no more bother. — Blackwood's Mj^qzjnifa