SELECT POETRY.

Tuapeka Times, Volume III, Issue 187, 7 September 1871, Page 7

SELECT POETRY.

MILLAIS'S "HUGUENOTS."

fro H., playing one of Mendelssohn's " Lieder Ohne Worte."]

Your fav'rite picture rises up before me, "Whene're you play that tune ; I see two figures standing in a garden, In the still August noon. One is a girl's, with pleading face turned upwards, "Wild with a great alarm ; Trembling with haste, she binds her broidered kerchief About the other's arm, Whose gaze is bent on her in tender pity, AY hose eyes look into hers, With a deep meaning, though she cannot read it, Hers are so dim with tears. WLat Are hhey saying in ilie sunny garden, With summer flowers ablow ? What gives the woman's voice its passionate pleading ? What makes the man's so low ? . ' " See, love ! " she murmurs, " you shall wear my kerchief. It is the badge, I know ; And it will bear you safely through the conflict.' If— if, indeed, you go ! *' You will not wear it ? WilL not wear my kerchief ? Nay ! Do not tell me why. I will not listen ! If you go without it, You will go hence to die. "Hush ! Do not answer! It is death, I tell you, Indeed, I speak the truth. You, standing there, so warm with life and vigour, So bright with health and youth ; You would go hence, out of the glowing sun- j

shine, Out of the garden's bloom, Out of the living, thinking, feeling pi-esent,

Into the unknown gloom !" Then lip makes answer : " Hush ! oh, hush, my

darling ! Life is so sweet to me, So full of hope, you need not bid me guard it, If such a thing might be ! If such a thing might be - but not through

falsehood, I could not come to you ;■ I dare not stand here, in your pure, sweet presence, Knowing myself untrue." " It is no sin !" the wild voice interrupts him, ** This is no open strife. Have you not often dreamt -a nobler warfare, In which to spend your life? Oh! for my sake -though hut for my sake—

wear it ! Think what my life would be If you who gave it first ti ue worth and meaning, Weie taken now from me !

■" Think ot the long, long days, so slowly passing 1 Think of the endless years ! lam so young .' Must I live out my lifetime With neither hopes nor fears ?" He speaks again, iv mournful tones and tender,

Lut with, unswerving faith : "Should not love make us braver, aye, and stronger, Either for life or death ? ■" And life is hardest. Oh, my love ! nty treasure ! If I could bear your part Of this great sorrow, I would go to meet it With an unshrinking heart. •" Child ! child ! I little dreamt in that bright summer, When first your love I sought, Of all the future store of woe and anguish Which I, unknowing, wrought. *' But you'll forgive me? Yes, you will forgive me, I know, when I am dead ! I would have loved you —but words have scant" meaning. God love you more instead." Then there is a silence in the sunny garden, Until, with faltering tone, She sobs, the while still clinging closer to him, "Forgive me — go— tuy own." So Iranian lovo, and faith Toy ueafch unshaken, Mingle their glorious psalm, Albeit low, vmtil the passionate pleading Is hushed in deepest calm. —"Spectator."