POETS' CORNER.

Otago Witness, Issue 1825, 12 November 1886, Page 29

POETS' CORNER.

Lap me in soft Lydian aim, Married to immortal verse, — MIXTON. When ! When I am young again I'll hoard my bliss, Nor di- am tliat inexhaustible it is, Itemenibethig old age comes niter this, Joy grows to pain ; Nor waste one moment of youth's rose-sweet hours, Nor trample one of all its countless flowers, But drink the summer sun and pof < spring showera, When I am young again ! I will be wise with wisdom dearly won By those «■ ho through life's wood have nearly run, Learn what to do, or what to leave undone, Dare or refrain ; I will not seek into ray mouth to <akc The bitter apple of the acrid lake j JElut at clear fountains all my thirsts will slake. When I am young again ! I will not brush the bloom to reach the core, Remembering how it chanced with me before, And bloom, once lost, returns not any moreHard cores remain— I will fence round with prudence, and secure A lasting bloom whose freshness shall endure; Oh, 1 will guard my peach of youth, be suro, When I am young again ! When I am young again I'll spend no br.-ath In bitter words the heart rpme i bereth. When bitterness is swallowed up by death Holding sole reign ; I'll love so well that if they pass to eleep Before me, I shUl have no watch to k> ep Over their tears— only my tears to weep, When I am young ogam : I will not lightly joy. nor idly grieve, Nor for a heaven itself one s ml deceive, Nor will I be deceived. > ainly believe, Nor love in vain! Come back, lost youth ! Oh, Fate, that one gift give; Then I will show I hat I have learned to live. Youth shall bd wise, and two and two make five, When I am young again ! — B. Nesbit. Maidenhead Bridge. On a river that lazily creeps to the tide— 'Twas the silvery Thames, if you'ro willing to knowWhere it's pleasant to steer with a g'rl by your side As the clever ones pull, or the lazy onps tow, Her eyes were a dream of forget-me-not blue, The coxswain elect of our wherry the Midgo. " Easy all ! "' cried a merry young voice to the crew. " we must hear the old echo of Maidenhead Bridge." Ha ! ha ! ha ! ha ! a dozen times It gives them back their fun and rhymes. From coxswain to crew, from maiden to Midge, A laugh was the echo of Maidenhead Bridge ! In a shower that gloomily swept through the arch, A rower in silence moved down with the stream, There were tears on the willow and s ghs from the larch, And the bells of the flowers were closed in a dream. His thoughts travell d back tj the merry young crew As it floated on summer, long past in the Midge, When men seemed so faithful, and women so true, So he tried the old echo of Maideuheau Bridge. Alas ! alas! a dozen t imps. It cavßhim buck his mournful rhymes. From flower to field -from i i ver to ridge, A sigh was tho echo of Maidenhead Bridge ? On a morning that carolled the birth of the spring A rower went up from tho village of Bray ; And he heard in the distance a pretty voice sing From a boat that was steering the opposite way. He had longed to remember, and she to forget. How their eyes met in love in the merry old Midge, Together they stopped but a minute— and yet They tried the old echo of Maidenh»ad Bridge. AJdss! a kiss! old loves and rh vines. It brought them back forgotten times. From winter to spring ; from rU er to ridge. A kiss was the echo of Maidenhead Bridge ! —Punch.