TIS A LEAF THAT REMINDS ME I LOVE. C'est line fetillle qui me rappete j'aime. It is colourless, withered, uncomely, Mia a leaflet in nought but the name, Why I treasure it still —shall I tell you ? C'est une feuille qui me rappete j'aime. Though its flowrets uublossomed have fallen, Yet to mo it is always the same, 'Tvraa the bud of my hopes, and forever C'c3t une feuille qui me rapetto j'aime. Through a night in your hair I had seen it, And when morn lit the heavens in a flame, Unresisted I took it, aud whispered C'est nne feuille qui me rappete j'aime. You are gone, and no vows can I cherish, Yet 110 promises broken remain, And I trust whilst I fondly remember C'est une feuille qui me rappete j'aime. Should I ne'er clasp you close to my bosom, Should I live without hope, without aim, - I will leck on this leaf and remember C'est u£ie feuille qui me rappete j'aime. And should G-od in his kindness yet bless me, Should I call you "mine'' mors than in name, We may think of the time when I whispered C'eat un9"feuille qui me rappete j'aime. J. M. P.
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https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/NZH18670330.2.27.2
Bibliographic details
New Zealand Herald, Volume IV, Issue 1053, 30 March 1867, Page 6
Word Count
200Page 6 Advertisements Column 2 New Zealand Herald, Volume IV, Issue 1053, 30 March 1867, Page 6
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