Poetry.

Wairarapa Standard, Volume XX, Issue 2090, 8 July 1887, Page 1 (Supplement)

Poetry.

a Hyaußaok.

Old hymn-book, tare I thought I’d lost yon In the d»y» now long gone by; I'd forgotten where I tossed you, Gndoael how l sigh. In the church i thin partition Stood between her pew and mine; And her pious, »weet contrition Struck me m divine. Yes. remarkably entrancing Waa the in her sable fun; And my eyea were always glancing Up, old book, to hen. Bless yon, very well she knew it, kma I’m sure she liked it too ; Once she whispered, Please don’t do it," But her eyes said, “ Do.” How to speak— to tell my passion 1 How to make her think me true 7 Love soon found a carious fashion, For be spoke through you. Bow I used to search year pages For the words I wished to say; And received my labor's wages Every Sabbath day. Ah, how sweet it was to band her Too, with line* I'd marked when found I And how well I’d understand her When she blushed and frowned. And one day, old book, you wriggled From my band and, rattling fell Upon the floor; and she—she giggled, Did Mias Isabel. Then when next we met out walking, I waa told in tearful tones How (he’d got a dreadful talking From the Beverend Jones. Ah me I Ao man could resist her In those sweet and buried rears. So I think—l think I kissed her, Just to atop her tears. Jones I gave a good,sound chaffing ; Called b<a sermons dry as bones; Soon fair Isabel was laughing— Said she bated Jones. It was after that I lost you, For I needed you no more ; Somewhere—anywhere 1 tossed you On a closet floor. Beverend Samuel still preaches; Isabel her past atones: In hit Sunday school she teaches— Mis. Samuel Jones.