BEFORE SAILING.

Waikato Times, Volume XXVIII, Issue 2274, 5 February 1887, Page 1 (Supplement)

BEFORE SAILING.

Lean closer, darling, kit the tender heart Bent against mine that aches with heavy woe; Drop thy quick woman's tears to soothe thy smart, Ah, me ! that I could easo my sorrows so! But men must work, sweetheart, and women wee]). So says the song, so runs the worlds behest; Yet time will pass and tender comfort creep, With hope in company, unto thy breast. Now, ere we part, while yefc on lip and cheek Close kisses linger, clinging, passionate, There is a farewell word hope fain would speak, A tender thought love labours to translate In the earnest words, whose memory though thy years Shall calm thy soul and dry thy drooping tears. If in thy garden when this roses blow, Or by the shelter of thine evening tire, In any Winter gloom or Summer glow, Thy soal float seaward with a fond desire (Fonder and stronger than thy tender use) Think thou :" One longs for me across the foam;" And if, sweet falling like the evening dews. A special peace enfolds thy heart and Then say though, dear, with softly bated breath, "In some lone wilderness beyond the sea, , j ~ Whether in light or life, m gloom or deauh, My lover's spirit speaks to God for rue . Kiss me, beloved, without a doubt or dread; We are not sundered though farewell be All the Year Eound. UNCAGED. The bird set free from golden cage, Heeds not the splendor of the wire ; To the clear blue his wings aspire, Nor the rough winds his zeal assuage. The dainty seed each morn supplied, The water pure in crystal vaseHe finds not in the airy space, Unfurnished, chill, and only wide. Ah, swecfer far the thistle seed That ttmts athwart his venturous way, And dew-drop sipped from wild-rose sprays ! Who calls him back in vain shall plead. The golden wires were prison-bars— They stopped his flight and scarred his wings; 'Tis a rude perch where now he sings, But then its bounds are sky and stars ! The sky will lower, the sun will set, The night will fall, the storm will rage; Hang on the tree the open cageBut lo ! the bird loves freedom yet! —William C. Richards, in December Bivouac. Never be ashamed of thy birth, or thy parents, or thy trade, or thy present employment, for the meanness or poverty ■of any of them— Jeremy Taylor.