Select Poetry.

Thames Star, Volume XII, Issue 4047, 17 December 1881, Page 1

Select Poetry.

A BOMANCE ENDED.

And this is the end of it all! It rounds tr c year's completeness; Only a walk to the stile, through fields afown with sweetiMfi i Only the sunset light, purple and red on the river, And a lingering low good-night that means good-bye for ever.

So be it! and God be with you; It had been perhaps more kind Had you wcrner (pardon the word) been sure of knowing jour mind, Who can bear so much in youth— who cares for a swift sharp pain ? And the,two edged sword of truth cuts deep, but it leaves no stain. I shall just go back to my work, to «y lHtl* household cares,. ... „. .. ■- 1 That nerer make any show.' By time, haps in my prayers '""' 1 may think of you ! for the rest, on this way we're trodden together My foot shall fall, as lightly as if my heart were a feather— • . And not a woman's heart i strong to have and to keep, Patient when thildren cry, toft to lull them to sleep; Hiding its secret dose, glad when another's band Finds for itself a gem where hers found only sand.

Good'bje! The year has been bright!-as oft, as thn blossoms come,. Tbe peach with its waxen pink, .the waving, snow of the plum, ' ' \'' I shall think how I used to watch, so happy to see you pass, I could almost kiss the print of jour foot on tbe dewy grass. - ■'.''{ lam not ashamed of my lore! Yet I would - not have yours bow, ~! Though you laid it down at my feet. I could not stoop so low. ~ ■ ' A lore is but half a love that cont n's itself with less - ' Than love's uttnoit faith, and truth, and unwavering tendt mess. • Only this walk to the sti'e; this parting word by the ri»cr, That flows so quiet and cold, going .and flowing forever, " Good-bye!" L«t. me wait to hear tbe last, last sound of hie feet! Ah me! but I think in this life of ours tht bitter outweighs the sweet. —Boston Transcript.