Select Poetry.

Thames Star, Volume XII, Issue 3933, 6 August 1881, Page 1

Select Poetry.

THE STOBY OF THE GATE.

Across the pathway, myrtle fringed, Under the maple, it was hinged— . The little wooden gate ; 'Twas there, within the quiet floam, W i n I strolled with Nelly home, I used to pause and wait.

Before I said to her good night, Yet loath to leave the winsome sprite Within the garden's pale ; And there, the gate between us two, We'd lin«er, as all lovers do, And lean upon the rail.

And face to face, eyes close to eyes, Hands meeting bands in feigned surprise After a stealthy que*t— So close I'd bend, ere she'd retreat, That I'd grow drunken from the sweet : Tuberose upon her breast.

We'd talk—in fitful style, I wem— With many a meaning glance between The tender words and low ; We'd whisper some dear sw et <?oneeit, Some idle gossip we'd repeat; And then I'd move to go.

" Good night/'^l'd say ; " good night—goodbye !" "[Good night" from her, with half a «igh— " Good-night! " " Good-aigbt I " And then— And then I did not to, but stand, And lean on the railing, and— Begin it all again !

Ah ! that was many a day ago— That pleasant summer time—although The gate is'standing yet; A little cranky, it may b >, A little weather w irn —like me— Who never can forget.

The happy—; 1 End ?" My cjnic friend, Pray save your sneers—there was no " end."

Watch yonder chubby thing!— That is our youngest, hers and mine ; See how he climbs, his legs to twine About the gate and swing. — Scribner's Monthly,