THE BOOKFELLOW.
MY HEART.
Wrtttbn for "TnE Press" bt' A. G. SratHENfl. (Copyright,—All Riehta Reserved.)
That summer luncheon I, can ne'er forget— Tho coo], smooth fragrance of tho wine; Tho odour of the banirmjr mignonette, The hidden oboes, that'divine, Sweet melodies pursued. Tho lily-eupa of g*lri«s, their dainty stems Scarce footed in the damask wow; The eilTer-twisted ornaments, like gems, The women voices, chaste and low; Th<v friendly solitude. The laughing host, his bright, big, boyian eyes Alight with innocence and love; My sister's face, toward bisf turned listoning —wise; A dark, impulsive Southern dove, Hot from tho forest sun. But yot the splenoMd pleasure of that day, For m*, was saddened by tho thought Tint she was absent in nme far-away— The girl my heart would fain have brought. . . 0 atar! 0 perfect oncf Hugh McCrae.
Permanent link to this item
https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/CHP19090501.2.30.2
Bibliographic details
Press, Volume LXI, Issue 13411, 1 May 1909, Page 7
Word Count
137
THE BOOKFELLOW. MY HEART.
Press, Volume LXI, Issue 13411, 1 May 1909, Page 7
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