ON THE WAY TO WORK.

New Zealand Graphic, Volume IX, Issue 24, 11 June 1892, Page 594

ON THE WAY TO WORK.

There's the dapper man, whose overcoat fits just a shade too tightly, And the foreigner who scales good eighteen stone, And the jovial-looking barrister, who bears his burdens lightly, And the girl who walks alone.

The girl whose hair in braided coils is twisted up so neatly— I have marvelled every morning how it’s done— Who one day when I jostled her smiled pardon, O so sweetly, Did that girl who walks alone.

For a year we've passed each other on our daily duties wending, Till to greet her with a word I’m almost prone, But I would not for a moment run the risk of half offendiner That young girl who walks alone.

I have wondered who her people are, and where her habitation, And why she’s al way’s dressed in sober tone ; I've a fancy—purely fancy—once she boasted higher station, With no need to walk alone.

We each have little worlds of thought, of action, and opinion, Of scenes within a circumscribing zone, And every morn they almost touch—my realm and the dominion Of the girl who walks alone.

With her face of pallid sorrow, and her eyes of hidden mystery, Conjecture holds me pensive when she's gone, All the others slightly bore me, but I wish I knew the history Of that girl who walks alone.