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PEDLAR'S PACK.

* Ebve is no huckster'; that is mine is thine.'* ARCADIA. We sit, my Best Belov'd and I, Within a jasmin bower; A butterfly Comes flitting by; With eager eyes He notes his prize, And, whispering " Beauteous Flower I'* He settles straightway on her lip Its sweets to sip. 'My Love, all prettily confused, ■->. And yet delighted and amused At his mistake, Sit 3 very still, Brings all her skill No slightest move to make, Lest that bright reveller strayed] Dash off, afraid. I gaze entranced, soft wondering Whether a poet best could sing Or painter paint A scene so delicately quaint. And so the still, husht moments fleet Till, ah, those little tickling feetWhy couldn't he have held bimistilll ' My Love endures by force of will The dainty torture for a while, But breaks at last into a smile, Sincere relief Commingling with a 3 honest grief. The smile becomes a laugh outright; Alas, her gallant cavalier—- " Some joys," says he, "are purchased dearl" And off ho flutters in a fright. ' a Maesyas.

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Permanent link to this item

https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/OW19180130.2.4

Bibliographic details

Otago Witness, Issue 3333, 30 January 1918, Page 3

Word Count
175

PEDLAR'S PACK. Otago Witness, Issue 3333, 30 January 1918, Page 3

PEDLAR'S PACK. Otago Witness, Issue 3333, 30 January 1918, Page 3