Selected Poetry.

Marlborough Express, Volume VIII, Issue 485, 26 March 1873, Page 4

Selected Poetry.

THE OLD, OLD TIME:

By John Gr. Smith, Author of " Doric Lays," " English Lyrics" &c.

The summer skies were bright and fair, No clouds of sorrow floated there, No tearful eye, or heart of care.

In the old, old time. The flush of health wa3 on the brow, Where Time has left his traces now ; Joy came we know not whence or how, In the old, old time. Our hopes were high, our griefs were few, A flowery mead we gambolled through, No thorns upon our roses grew, la the old, old time. The golden stars that gem the sky, And told their magic course on high, Were full of love's sweet minstrelsy, In the old, old time.

The groves ware ever fresh and green, The woods were clothed m glossy sheen, No sbarlows dimmed the radiant scene, ■ In the old, old time. The hills that like vast giants lie, And reared their hoary heads on high, We deemed the pillars of the sky, In the old, old time. When morning oped her eyes of blue, Though still the same, the scene was new, And charmed our ever wond'ring view, In the old, old time. When Spring m rokelay green arrayed, Tripped smiling o'er th» awakened glade, How merrily the lambkins played, In the old, old time. When Summer brought her fragrant flowers, To star the lea and gem the bowers, How swiftly flew the honeyed hours, In the old, old, time. When Autumn crowned with leaflets sere Wound up the glories of the year; How welcome was her mellow cheer, In the old, old time. When Winter with his icy chain, Bound loch and river, hill and plain; How deftly wheeled the skating train, In the old, old time. Ours was the spirit speaking eye, Ours were the tones of melody, Ours were the thoughts that never die,

In the old, old time. 0 for the cloudless skios of blue ; 0 for the comrades tried and true ; O for the pleasures ever new, In the old, old time.