Poetry. THE OLD ROCKING-CHAIR.

Waikato Times, Volume XXXII, Issue 2581, 26 January 1889, Page 1 (Supplement)

Poetry. THE OLD ROCKING-CHAIR.

Aly grandmother sat in the old rockingchair . (But she wns not my grand-mother tnen) And her port little face was bcwitchingly fair As she laughed a dotianco to men ! 1 ler sun-bonnet fluttr l 1 like bird on its string, Her hair wandered free on the breeze ; And gaily I ween did my grandmother sing Underneath those old gnarl d apple trees. My grandfather rode through the white orchard gate, And tethered his roan to a tree ; lle'd a well-powdor'd wig on his silly

young pate, And high tassel'd boots, to his knee ! From the pink apple blossoms that over him lning, , lie brush'd off the dew, with bis hat; Till lie came to the place whore the rockingchair swung, And my merry young grandmother sat. The kingcup and daisy bloomed round in their pride, And beos of their sweetness did sip ; But my grandfather blush'd and my grandfather sigh'd, As he flick'd off their heads with his whip ; My granny she hummed her a cunning old song— n " Faint heart never wun ladyofair ! So ho wooed and he prayed, and before very long . There sat two in that old rocking-chair ! John Gerald Brenan, in Tenipießar.

SOLITUDE. It is not tliat iny lot is low, That bids the -silent tour to How ; It is not grief that bids nie moan ; It is that I am all alone. In woods and glens T. love to roam, When the tired hedgor hies him home ; Or by the woodland pool to rest, When pale the star looks on his breast. Yet when the silent evening sighs, With hallow'd airs and symphonies, My spirit takes another tone, And sighs that it is all alone. The autumn leaf is sere and dead — It lioats upon the water's bed ; I would not a leaf, to die Without recording sorrow's sigh ! The woods and winds, with sudden wail, Tell all the same unvaried tale ; I'vo liuuo to smile when I am free ; And when I sigh, to sigh with me. Yet in my dreams a form 1 view, That thinks on me and loves me too ; I start; and when the vision's flown, I weep that I am all alone. —K. White.