ROSE OF YESTERDAY.

Auckland Star, Volume XLIV, Issue 225, 20 September 1913, Page 15

ROSE OF YESTERDAY.

I would have made your life eternal spring, For bloom alone, careless of fruit or sheaf; But you have lived the toil-filled days that bring The harvest store, the sundyed autumn leaf. I would have strewn your path with flowers rare; But, Love, it was the desert way you choose; Before you lay its heat and noontide glare, But in your wake it blossomed as the rose. I would have shed glad sunshine on your way, But you have trod the shrouded courts of night; Each forward step led further from the 1 day, Behiud you lies a gleaming trail of light. Perchance, if I might nave my way with you, God's noble plan of sainthood I should mar; I leave you, then, to one whose wisdom knew Not joy, but pain, would make you what you are. Henceforth I will not ask to have my way, 0 Rose of Yesterday—of Yesterday. THE DIGNIFIED MAN. Pity, oh, pity the dignified gent! Pity, oh, pity the dignified chap, Who looks so ridiculous in a mishap. He slips in the mud, and it giveth delight; His tie climbs his neck, and we laugh at the sight— Things for which you and I wouldn't care half a rap — Pity, oh pity the dignified chap! Pity, oh, pity the dignified man, Who never can act like the rest of us can. You and I, if we care to, can run half a block; But if he should try it, 't would give us a shock; For him all frivolity's under the ban. Pity, oh, pity the dignified man. Pity, oh, pity the dignified one, Who cannot unbend for a bit of mild fun, Who has to be stately and sober and staid, And stiff as a drum-major out on parade, Who looks like a picture of George Washton. Pity, oh, pity the dignified one! Pity, oh, pity the dignified gent, Who cannot indulge in undue merriment. Whenever I see him I'm tempted, I own, To give him a poke in the vest-pocket zone To see if his marbleness cannot be bent.