LOVE'S LAURELS.
Love, had we lived when the times were Loud with the battlo and fierce with fray, Warriors striving and minstrels singing Daring deeds of a bygone day, You might have sat as a Queen of Beauty, I, in the lists, as your chosen knight, Flaunted your favour and vowed your duty, Borne me the best in the bitter fight. With my sword-arm nerved by her loving glances, Who could have wrested from me the Safe had I como from the splintered lances Claiming my guerdon from those dear eyes. Love, there is never a leaf nf laurel Left for the sword-blade to reap in frayMen are the wiser and cease to quarrel: Little the gifts I can bring to-day. Only, I bring you, with heart impassioned, A red, red rose-bud my lips have pressed. Only this song that my love has fashioned Winged by the music to reach your breast, Simple, indeed, are the gifts I bear her, Great is my guerdon, I hold no fear, But her heart will take them and find them dearer Than the noblest! spoil of a knightly spear. —Hugh Conway.
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Waikato Times, Volume XXXI, Issue 2531, 29 September 1888, Page 1 (Supplement)
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188LOVE'S LAURELS. Waikato Times, Volume XXXI, Issue 2531, 29 September 1888, Page 1 (Supplement)
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