AT THE OPERA.

Waikato Times, Volume XXV, Issue 2087, 21 November 1885, Page 4

AT THE OPERA.

A r P u I-, it wh, at tho i>j) ii theie .— And -ho lih.'xM like a. uuuiu of <>!d time that night, With tlu' wio.it v "Jtl jjp.«liin li'jr i iumi hm\ Amcl her biejst with the diuniind blight. Sulu by side in mn bo\ wo (-at Together, my bride betmth'd and I : My g".ue »«i h\'d on my upeia-hat, And hers on the stage hard by ; And b >ti wcio silent, and both were sad ; (jujonly she loati'ddii her full white arm, With that regal, indolent air she had ; So confident of hor charm ! I ll ue no doubt sho was thinking- tlien Oi hor foriuor lord, g>iod wml that ho \v,n ! Who died the richest, and roundest of men, Tho Marquis of C uabas. That nanow gate to the Kingdom of Heaven, H> w,\s not too portly, I trust, t»i pass, I wish him well, for the jointure given To my l<vdy of Caraba<. Meanwhile, I was thinking of my 6rst lo\c, As I lv I not hian thinking of aught for yen s, Till over my eyes there began to inovo Something that fell like teats. I thought of the dress that she wore last time, When we stood 'noath the cypress trees, together, In that lost land, in her own soft clime, In the ci union evening weather. And the jasininu-flower m her fair young breast, (O, tlio faint sweet smell <»f that jasmineflower !) : And the last bird singing alone to his nest : And thtt hrst sUv over the tower. I thought of our little quarrels and sti ifo ; And the letter that brought me back my ring; And it .ill seemed then, in the v\aste of life, Such a \ery little thing ! For I thought of her grave below the hill. Which the sentinel cypresi tree stands over, And I thought ' were she only living still, How 1 cnuld forgive her and love her !' And I swear, as I thought of her thus, in th.it hour, And of how, after all, old tilings were best, That I smelt the smell of that ja*inino flower, Which ihe used to wear on her liieat-t. And T turn'd and look'd. She was sitting there Tn a dim h >\, over the stage : and drest In tl"> dre-n that I knew, with her full soft hair, And tn vt jasmine in her Breast. She was there : ami I was here : And the glittering horHe-shoo cursed between :—: — And [mm here to there, and from tier to tier, From my brido that was to have been, T<» my early lovn, with her eyes down cast, And over her blnsh-ro^c face the -.hade (In Hliort, from the Future baelc to the Past), There was but a step to be made. To my narly lovofrom my future brido One moment I look'd, then I stole to the door, I travelled tho passage ; and down at her side I was sitting, a moment more. My thinking «f her, or the mii-ic's strain, Or something that never can bo expressed, ILul brought her hick from thegiave ag.»in, With the jasmino in her breaht. She is not daul, and ihu i\ not wed ! lint *h'! loves mo now, and she loved me then ! \nd the very first word that her sweet lips xaid, Mr heart giew youthful again. Tho Marchioness there, of Carab.v*, She is wealthy, and young, and haudioine still, And but f >r her— well, we'll let thnt pass She may mairy whome\er she w ill, But I will marry my own fn-tl/\L\ With her blmh rose face . for old things a io best : And tho flower in her bosom, I piue it above The brooch in my lady's breast. Th" world i-« filled with folly nnd sin, And Love must cling wheio it can, I say : For lJeauty in ea«y enough to win ; JJntone isn't loved every day. And T think, in the lives of most women and men There's a moment when nil would go .smooth iind even, If only tho dead could hud out when To come baiA, and be totgiven. O\u\- MnnmiTH.