Poetry.

Waikato Times, Volume XXXIII, Issue 2704, 9 November 1889, Page 5 (Supplement)

Poetry.

FORGIVE ! Votive, lite is not loiiß enough Tn keep resentment in the. heart, Ami there is pain enough to Dear Amclc from broken friendship n MiiaH. I'o,-Rive, for everyone hns need To be forgiven, ere life w done. Forgiveness must be granted all Jloforc the RoWen crown is won. gate. I'Weivo as von, on tlic last day, WhenscUts of all hearts arc known, Would be forgiven, as you bow To plead before the groat white tlnone. —San Francisco Bulletin. THE TRUE LIFE. .Some day, I know not when, the play will And all the vain unrest of this stage world , , , ~ Will pass away ; and she who pleased the The clamoring crowds who claimed her for their pet, . . And hung upon her words, and cheered her art, Will soon be gone—her name a memory. No more the footlights glare on all this Xo lnoroVhu curtain falls with plaudits loud ; For slio who once was queen is queen m.> more, , , A now hUrp royalty reigns in her stead ; And they wlio'loved her, servant though she were. . . And called her star—the meteor of a nig it— Now know her as a name, for such is " The queen U dead, long live the queen !" they ery. , So wags the world—the seasons come ana go. Where are the flowers they threw to her of old ■'. , Gone with the echoes of their cheers, and dead. 'lint in the leisure of hjr now found peace. Sho keeps thorn still, their petals brown And scentless, like an old dead memory. Hut now she rests, and that diviner peace Which is the truer life, with Love its king, Keiens in the stead of sorrow and unrest; And woman takes the woman's sharo ot life, , ~ The calmful share, and, in her husband h love A clad wife living, lives not for herself But all for hiii). No more the footlights dare Uii uno poor woman in hru- servitude, Whose smiles are but a detail of the scene, Whose laugh rings hollow, for it knows no mirth, , . Whose cheeks are pale and haggard neatli the paint. Whoso eyes must glisten though her heart should break. 'Twas yesterday she spoko her long farewell— , It seemed as if to death she showed her face — But when the curtain fell, 'mid many a sigh, And shut out all the world as if for aye, She felt a new life spring within her heal't And knew that in the quiet of her home The bettor part of life was vet unlived. " —Ada Ward. SO LONG AGO. (kouxdki..) S<) long ago the hours of joy took llight— As roses wane when Autumn bids them Love's sunshine passed to one dark dismal night So long ago. When Tyrant Time's grim scythe hath ceased to mow, May o'er again these long-lost hours dawn bright ? Shall Love renew his heart-songs faint ana low •'. And Kaith be fain once more her lamp to Ah, may this be ? Alas ! Ido but know They waned the sunlit hours of heart's de'light So long ago. — (J. W. J'.., in l'.lackwood's Magaxinc.