Poetry.

Waikato Times, Volume XXIX, Issue 2352, 6 August 1887, Page 1 (Supplement)

Poetry.

GOOD-NIGHT,

Cnod night, pretty Him, good-night; I’ve watched your purple and golden light While yon are sinking away, And some, one has just been telling mo You’re making, over the shining sea, Another beautiful day ; That, just at the time t am going to sleep, The children there are taking a peep At your face—beginning to say, “Good-morning!” just when I say goodnight ! Now, beautiful Sun, if they’ve told me right, I wish you’d say good-morning for mo To all tho little ones over the sea. —St. Nicholas.

THE HONEYMOON

Darling ! Really now, my own ? Let us sail to-day, love, Seek a little Islet lone— Miles and miles away, love ! There tho sky is bright, I wot, Always summer weather; Wo will Vent a fairy grot You and I together! There we’ll wander hand in band (No one to deride, love), Dreaming o’er its golden strand, Fling the world aside, love ! Stay, let me assign the parts— Nature shall be mother; Children, wo will study hearts, Learning each tho oilier. For, although as on .) we wend Love-wise, we must wait, love. For our minds and wills to blend And assimilate, love. If we learn our lesson well—(Bend your oar a minute.) Ours for aye that Islet-cell, Wo can live within it!

So, you’re curious with your “ How ?” Nay, you need not move, love, We are in our Islet now— Angels call it “ Love,” love !

Douglas Adam. San Francisco, May 28, 1887.

SHORTENING THE BABY.

Our baby now in four months old, Abonnioboy, with hair like crold ; And his long clothes are put away— For Mother shortened him to-day. Ho has the loveliest of frocks, ' AH trimmed with lace, and two pink socks. That Father bought, the best by far And prettiest in the whole bazaar. And now tho rogue can kick about; His little feet go in and out As though they could not rest, and ho Is just as happy as can bo. besides, he fools quite proud to day With all his long clothes put away, And dressed so fine 1 And then, you know, Wo praise the boy, and love him so ! His grandmamma must see him soon ; Wo all will go this afternoon, And take the pet, and stay for tea, — And what a riot there will bo 1 At first, perhaps, she may not know The baby, ho has dwindled so ; but let her guess, and do not say That Mother shortened him to-day 1 —J. K. Eastwood, in St. Nicholas.