Poetry.
VANITY FAIR. Through Vanity Fair, in days of old, There passed a maiden with locks nf gold, And a peddler opened his tempting pack, Crying: "0, my pretty lass ! What do you lack? Here's many a ware Costly and rare. Come buy—oh, come buy ! In Vanity Fair." "Silks and eatins are not for mo : Lace is for damsels of high degree ; The lads would laugh in our country town If I came clad in a broidered gown ; But yet there's a ware Precious and rare I fain would buy me In Vanity Fair." "Pray, sell me, sir, from your motley store, A heart that will love me for evermore. Thnt. whether the world shall praise or blame, Through sorrow or joy will be still the same. 'Tis the only ware For which I care 'Mid all the treasures In Vanity Fair." "Much it grieves mo, 0 lassie dear," Tho peddler said ; " but I greatly fear The hearts that loved in the old sweet way Have been out of fashion this many a day; And gilded care Is all tho ware You will get for your money In Vanity Fair." —Chnmbers Journal.
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Waikato Times, Volume XXX, Issue 2486, 16 June 1888, Page 1 (Supplement)
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192Poetry. Waikato Times, Volume XXX, Issue 2486, 16 June 1888, Page 1 (Supplement)
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