Poetry.

Waikato Times, Volume XXIX, Issue 2388, 29 October 1887, Page 1 (Supplement)

Poetry.

A S() X A et. I. TllK Autumn leaves are falling fast, llnw sail it is to see 'l'lm summer glories pass away, All lifeless from the true. How many a joyous hour we. spent Beneath their kindly shade, Wo danced, and sang in merriment, And many a joke we made. 3. But now those times arc past and gone, And leave n- to lament _ Such happy days, which ne'er again May in unr life be spent. •1. The, little, birds no arbour find Among them, as of yore ; Ami yet they linger on the boughs That shelter them no more. So let it be with ns, when we, Our rich friends see depriv’d Of all the wealth, from which we oft Our pleasure have deriv'd. (!. Ah ! may we always, like the birds, Remindful ever be Of all the blessings render'd ns In joy and charity. Maopik, Hamilton. IT SEEMS HUT YESTERDAY. It seems as tho' twas yesterday, That we. by chance, as .strangers met, For, tho’ long year, have passed away, That meeting sweet is with us yet 1 By mystic fate it was decreed That hour should long remembered bo, For kindred hearts are imicl; to read, And I lov'd you, and you lov’d me, Ah, yes 1 it seems lint yesterday Onr hands first met hv fate s decree. Ami hearts thenceforth were one ahvay For I lov’d yon and yon lov’d me. But few the words we uttered then, As hands, relinquished, fell apart ! lint well we knew they'd meet again, Impelled by love that tilled each heart; Full soon the truth to both was known As day by day they nearer grew, For each then lived for each alone, And you lov’d mo and 1 lov’d yon. Ah, yes 1 it .seems but yesterday Onr hands first met, by fate’s decree, And hearts thenceforth were one ahvay For I lov'd yon and yon lov'd me. THE LIGHTS OF THE CITY. What is the story they tell to you, I’reaming lassie, with eyes of blue? ‘They tell me a tale of the Wonderland, Where tho sceptre of all is a fairy’s wand ; Where Dreamland gleams through the misty gates, And at each step some marvel awaits. I can sec the arms of a princely knight Flush in yonder glittering light: I can see the enchanted castle there Gleam in its jewelled .splendour rare. Lo ! warriors bold, with shield and lance, Wait here to battle fur my glance. Oh, not the half can L tell to yon,’ Said tho dreaming lassie with eyes of blue. What is the story they tell to yon, Fair rose-mother with rosebuds two? ‘They tell men, talc that’s simple and sweet Of the place where Heaven and earth doth meet; Of homes so brimming with Love and light They overflow out into the night; Of a man’s proud fjove so tender and strong, A woman’s heart singing the whole day long Of cherub children, whoso soft arms cling— The true God-given signet ring That, seals our Love—-who-e lisping rise With “ N’mv 1 lay me ” tn the skies. Why, what else could they tell,’smiled she, ‘Than this sweet tale they tell to me?’ What is the story they tell to yon, Grey-haired mother, so nearly through Life’s pilgrimage? ‘Their tale is brief lint full of joy for the heart of grief. They whisper to me tiiat night is here, That the lime for rest is very near ; And like bright stars they seem to say That heaven is only a little way, A tew more steps, a word or so Of goal-night greeting and prayer, and In Sorrow and pain are for ever past, And the long, long rest lias come at lns f Don't you thinkita precious tale,’said she, * That the lights of tile city tell to me?’