MY FIRST LOVE.
I met her at a picnic, That little maid of three, Her eyes were blue and smiling Just like the summer sea. I thought her such a fairy, In dainty white array'd, And lost my heart unto her,— The wee and winsome maid. I was a boy of seven, And knew not how to woo, To share with her my lollies Was all that I could do. She rubbed upon my shoulder Her little sticky thumbs, Then push'd them in my pockets, And ate up all my plums. I gaz'd at her in wonder, The little wilful fay, Nor ever wished to check her, But let her have her way; And when in baby anger, My picture book she tore, I only laugh'd and thought her Still prettier than before. Dear little picnic sweetheart! Long years have passed away. And brought with them their changes Since that delightful day; And other loves have charm'd me, But you will ever be The first love of my boyhood— Dear little maid of three! Shag Point, January 1894. —WYCH ELM.
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https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/OW18940208.2.152
Bibliographic details
Otago Witness, Issue 2085, 8 February 1894, Page 39
Word Count
180MY FIRST LOVE. Otago Witness, Issue 2085, 8 February 1894, Page 39
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