Poetry.

Wairarapa Standard, Volume XX, Issue 2092, 15 July 1887, Page 1 (Supplement)

Poetry.

Arlette. The day is spent, and fields new shorn, Are bright with fading sheen; Like blossoms left behind the -'orn, The maidens cjme and glean ; Bine eyes and floating locks nig ud Hage caught yon in their nei: You smile and call me strange and cold You never knew Arlette. I met her when this life of mine Ttmii tamed from sweet to sour ; There was no sparkle in the wine, No bloom upon the flower. I reamed away to boar alone The stings of vain regret; The grain was gone, the reapers flown, When first I found Arlette. The glamor of the “ sunny tiouth ” About her beauty lies; A mellow cheek, a scarlet mouth, And dark, beseeching eyes ; A daughter of the soil, as sweet As Summer buds dew wet; No trait of our town bred deceit Has ever touche 1 Arlette. With half her charms some girl might win A fashionable fame ; How came she with that southern skin And soft old Norman name ! We talked, I questioned, she replied, Till I forgot my fret; For bitter thoughts and angry pride All fled before Arlette. How ends the tale ? To your surprise There is no end to tel' ! I left no tears in those dark eyes, Although 1 love 1 them well; Her picture banes within ray brain, Fresh and unsullied yet; No empty vows of mine shall pain The heart of true Arlette.

But when my harvest field appears As bare as it can be She comes, and finds some golden cars Of fife's good grain for me ; My old belief in truth and trust She brings back, sometimes yet; You smile again ; ah, well you must ; You never knew Arlette.