ORIGINAL POETRY.

Tuapeka Times, Volume II, Issue 94, 27 November 1869, Page 6

ORIGINAL POETRY.

TO HENRIETTA,

Oh for a silken curl of thy dark hair, That fans profusely and in massive clusters Down oW thy shoulders, like some river's fall Over a precipice of polished marble. Would'st thou bestow on me so small a gift — A little gift, but great in my esteem— T.d. treasure jt as dearly as my life, '' And would entwine it fondly with mine own Jnto some h.eart-s]iape, or some lovers-k not, AndL wear it ever here, upon my heart, " ' As sacred as some holy secret trust Bequeathed, by dying saint. For when X gazed IJpon tW precious treasure, 'twould recall To my enraptured eyes those raven looks ' From which you severed that little curl.' Two bright and beauteous eyes,— two laughing '"eyes, " l " "•""" " ' " a """' That sparkle with the tender light of love, Like stars that deck the azure vault of heaven, To which the lonely wand'rer looks for light To guide his weary footsteps through the world. As eagerly as thai lone wanderer Looks upward from the darkness of his path To seek bis sole remaining"(?uiae— the stars, I gaze inio the beauty of those eyes * With fond anticipation, there to seek Celestial fays of hope-inspiring light, To brighten' the uncertain" path of love. Two glowing cheeks, and lips of rosy hue,

So temptingin their sweetness. to a kiss. A radiant" brow, ne'er darken'd by a frown, Where youth and hope sit smilingly enthron'd. A breast of snowy whiteness, that conceals An unpolluted heart, unknown to guile, And sacred' in its virgin purity. A voice whose accents, sweet as sounds of music, £>£eal lilce encliaatmoni oxx xerjr ear-, * Breathing no other song but that of love. A form' so fawn-like in its tender softness, That with aerial lightness moves along In symmetry and grace, perfection's self. Two tiny feel;, still lighter in their fall TBian fairy footsteps on the meadows green. A mortal, as an angel beautiful !.' Oh, how I envy those who die in faith, If angels are so fair as she in heaven. Thus would .the little treasure oft beguile The dull and dreary tediousness of time, And conjure up a bright and joyous smile, Even in the darkest moments of my life, ' By making what is not appear what is. ' JAQUES.

Donedin, Nov. Uth, 1869.