L.A GRISETTE.

Auckland Star, Volume XLII, Issue 167, 15 July 1911, Page 16

L.A GRISETTE.

Ah, Clemence! when I saw thee last Trip down the Rue de Seine, And turning, when thy form had. passea, I said, "We meet again"— I dreamed not in that idle glance. Thy latest image came, And only left to memory's trance A shadow and a name. The few strange words my Kps j* J taught Thy timid voice to speak, ' Their gentler signs, which often tong«

Fresh roses to thy cheek, The trailing of thy long loose hair Bent o'er my cou'eh of pain, ' All, all returned, more sweet, more fatt, Oh, had we met againl

I walked where saint and virgin keep The vigtil lights of Heaven, I knew thaf thou hadst woes to weeji And sins to be forgiven; I watched where Genevieve was laid, I knelt by Mary's shrine, Beside mc low, soft voices prayed}Alas! but where was thine? .

And when the morning sun W9 brigoti When wind and waves were calm. And flamed, in thousand-tinted llgW: The rose of Notre Dame, .' ■, I wandered through the haunts of.n^ From Boulevard to Quai, Till, frowning o'er Saint Etieiuie, 1 I The Paufheoivs shadow lay..'!

In vain, in vain; we meet no more, Nor dream what fates befall; And long upon the stranger's shore g My voice on thee may call, . When years have clothed the line in n">" That tells thy name .and days, And withered, on thy simple cross , , ..-.. The wreaths of Pere-la-Chaise! —Oliver Wendell Holm*'