Poetry.

Waikato Times, Volume XXIX, Issue 2379, 8 October 1887, Page 1 (Supplement)

Poetry.

])H 00 HON A.

You laugh at thn old hat, fair lady, (Good south.' '(is sometime since ’twas new) “dust like an old hat worn and shady That genu the Queen's highway,” think you? To mo it brings memories may be, In spite of its nondescript line. There stained with dull green from the meadow, And browned by the sun’s scorchitig ray, Here on the crown just a shadow (Suspicion you'd call it) of clay. Tl's riband is but tangled thread, so Prone arc rough branches to fray. The sheen of the old hat grew dimmer I’non plunging beneath the dull spray, And that's how you catch hot a glimmer Of the old hat’s original gray. In travels oft borne o’er the billow By good horse a comrade and friend, When camped ’noath the broad native willow Dependant on banks of the bend, “Mon chapeau” could soften the pillow, A log, or the saddle, might lend. Ami. WILD HOSE. Some innocent girlish kisses by a charm Changed to a flight of small (link butterflies. To waver under Juno's delicious skies Across gold-sprinkled meads, the merry swarm A smiling powerful word did next transform To little roses mesh’d in green, allies Of earth and air, and everything we prize For mirthful, gentle, delicate and warm. •Sou Rosie 1 sure thy sistcr-llmv’r it is (Rosa Sylvestris on hath named thee well); Mcthinks I could imagine gloomy Dis Whirling yon, with a wildrose wreath, to —dwell In Hades, Only one thing sweet as this, One thing—come closer—nav, I’ll never tell! William Allingiiam. SHADOWS. Shadow gives to sunshine brightness, And it gives to joy its lightness ; Shadow gives to honor meekness, And imparts its strength to weakness ; Shadow deepens human kindness, Draws the veil from mental blindness ; Shadow sweetens love's own sweetness, And gives to life its deep intensenuss; Shadow is earth’s sacredness, And the heaven’s loveliness ; Shadow is day’s tnnderness, And the night’s calm holiness ; Shadow's deepest night of darkness Will break in clay’s eternal brightness,

A WILD HOSE. The wild rose in wayside hedge Tills year 1 wandering son, I pluck and send it as a pledge, My own Wild Hose, to thee. For when my gaze, first felt thy gaze, We were knee-deep in June ; The nights were only dreamier days, And all the hours in time. I found thee, like the eglantine, Sweet, simple and apart, And from that hour thy smile Hath berm The flour that scents my heart. And oven mow when Juno doth grace Fresh copse or weathered hole With roses, straight I see thy face, And gaze into thy soul. A natural bud of love tlum art. Where, bending clown, 1 view. Deep bidden in tby fragrant heart, A drop of heavenly dew. Go, wild rose, to my Wild Rose dear, l!id her come swilt and soon. 0, would that she were always here, It then were always June. —Alfred Austin, in the Spectator,