THE WANDERER.

NZ Truth, Issue 80, 29 December 1906, Page 8

THE WANDERER.

(For "Truth.") The lamps are all lighted, the streets are full, They are coming and going like waves of the sea. Thousands ate out on this beautiful night ; They jostle each other but shrink from me. Men hurry by with a stealthy glance, Women pass with their eyes cast down, Even the children seem to know The shameless girl of the town- *> . ■ . i Hated and shunned I walk the streets Hunting for what ? for my prey 'tis said. I look at it, though, m a different light, . This prey is my daily bread. The food, the shelter, the clothes I wear ; Only for this I might starve or drown. The world has disowned me, what can I do But live and die on the town ? The world is cruel, it may be rifrht To hunt the harlot ; but grant it so. What made her the guilljy thing she is ? For -she was innocent once you know. T'was love, that terrible word tells all ; She loved a man and blindly believed * , In his vows, his kisses, his crocodile tears— , Of course the fool was deceived. Tell me, wha>t is done to the wretoh Who tempts and riots m women's fall? Does his father curse and- cast him off? ! Does his friends forsake 1 , is ho j scorned of all ? :Oh, no, his judges are men like him- ! self, Or thoughtless women who humor each whim. "Young blood," "wild oats," but •better hush tip— 'Tis soon forgotten m him. Even his mother, who ought to know A woman's nature and how it is: won, • Frames a thousand excuses for him, Because forsooth that man is her son. .'? You have daughters madam, he told me so, * • On the night of my guilt, woman what then ? Other mothers may have daughters' like yours, Bid them beware of the men. I met his carriage m the streets today, Dashing along on ; the sunny side. There lolling back m her listless pride, The wife of his 'bosom took the air. She was bought m the mart Where hearts are sold ;' I gave myself away for his love, She sold herself" for- his gold. I see his boy m the park sometimes, And my heart, : though broken, runs towards the child ; A frank little fellow with fearless eyes, , , Be smiles on me as his father smiled. I hate the man' though I love the boy, For I think what my own would •have been had he lived: Perhaps 'tis he come back from the . dead To his father, alas, but iiot to me. One night some devil led me To pass his house. The windows were. all m a blaze of light, The music played to ; a maddening round, [ I heard the whirl of the. dancers' feet.; Bitter, Oh, bitter I Were the thoughts I had ' j 'Plodding there m the street. i ■ ■'.** I Back to my gaudv'den I went, | .Marched to my room m grim desj pair ; . ! Dried my eyes, painted my cheeks, Fixed a flower or two m- mv hair. Corks were popping, wine was flowing ! I seized a bumper and. tossed it down: One must do something to kill the time And fit oneself for the town. I take my place m a crowd of men, Not like the simple women I see. You can cheat them as much as you please, But you wear no masks with me. I know you, under your honeyed words, There lurkg __ serpent, your oaths are lies; There is a raging fire m your hearts, I see it blazing up m your eyes. But cling to them, ladies, and shrink from me, Or rail at my boldness— well, have you done ? Madam, your husband knows me well,, Mother I know your son. But go your way and I'w.ill go mine, j , Call me appropriate names if you will. The truth is bitter, think I have ' lied. A harlot-i-yes— but a woman still. Jesus said of old to a *«>oman like me "Go; sin no more," or your scriptures lie. ; . But you mangle his merciful words, And bid us .go and sin till we die. '-'Die," the word has a sweet, a pleasant sound, The sweetest I've heard this many x a year ; It seems to promise an end to pain ; Anyway, it will end it here. But how ? Shall I cast myself m the street ? No, ere the horses could trample me down Some would-be friend would snatch me up . ■•• ■ And thrust me back on the town ! But look, the river from where I stand, I see. it, can almost hear it flow ; 'Tis but a step to the lonely pier, ! I'll take it and there I wiii end my woe. A plunge, a splash, and all will be . o'er ; The death-black waters will carr} me down, God knows where, no matter to* v---So long as I'm off from the toy *-■ H.A.