The Poet’s Corner.

New Zealand Mail, Issue 999, 24 April 1891, Page 4

The Poet’s Corner.

THE LAST LOVER. Tired of earthly loving. Weary of earthly sin, Weighed down with earthly sorrow, Thy peace I fain would win, Bear death ! In thy pale arms enfold me I Thy damp ki-.s on my brow Shall bring me peace, at last, love ; I fain would have it now, Sweet death ! And thy love shall last forever. And thy constancy alnay, So tarry not, my lover, But come, yes, come to-day, My death I A MEMORY. Some may forget the sweetheart old They knew when life was young; But though the tale be often told, The sons’ be often Eung, The one to whom I gave my heart I can remember yet, While half-regretful tear-drops start— Ah, who would love forget! The very day when I proposed, The very hour, the place, The way she looked, but half-composed, The blushes cn her face ; The—but, perhaps, I’d better tell The secret. On my life I remember her so very woll— Because she is my wife !

MY MOTHER-IN-LAW.

She is coming, she is coming, unhappy is my fate ; Time, title and my wife’s mother were never known to wait. She is coming like a martinet, domestic peace must fly, With all the tender graces that are absent when she’s nigh. She will wash anti scold the children and boss the servant girl, Rip aaw my lamb-like temper and set my nerves awhirl ; Talk volumes on economy, but all the time declare My wife’s allowance is not half as much as I should spare. A perfect fiend at bargaining, she’ll sally out to buy A host of things I can’t afford, all purchased on the Bly j I’ll have to give up smoking to get the children frocks, And my corns will soon be aching from the patcho on my socksShe’ll need a peck of buttons to sew on here and there, And spools of twist and cotton for every rip and tear ; And, to cap the awful climax, she so well knows how to bake, And as a coolc is unsurpassed, from oyster stew to steak, That, while I hate to have her come, my hatred’s tinged with woe, When she departs, I must confess, I hate to see her go