AN OLD MAID’S REVERIE.

New Zealand Graphic, Volume V, Issue 52, 27 December 1890, Page 5

AN OLD MAID’S REVERIE.

I’m thinking of the wooing That won my maiden heart When he—he came pursuing A love unused to art. Into the drowsy river The moon transported Hung Her soul that seemed to quiver With the songs my lover sung. Ami the stars in rapture twinkled On the slumbrous world below— You see that, old and wrinkled, I’m not forgetful—no !

He still should l»e repeating The vows he uttered then— Alas ’. the years, though fleeting, Are truer yet than men ! The summer moonlight glistens In the favourite trysting spot Where the river ever listens For a song it heareth not. Ami I, whose head is sprinkled With Time’s benumbing snow, I languish, old ami wrinkled, But not forgetful—no !

What though be elsewhere turneth To beauty strangely bold ’. Still in my bosom burneth The tender tire of old ; Ami the words of love he told me Ami the songs he sang me then Come crowding to uphold me, And I live my youth again ! For when love’s feet have tinkled On the pathway women go. Though one be old and wrinkled She s not forgetful—no !