A SUMMER ROMANCE.
A pair of fond lovers sat cooing Beside the old moss-covered well ; They spoke of undying devotion, Which Language but faintly could tell. The swain in the well dropped a pebble, And whispered, as tender he grew : ‘ Until this stone comes to the surface, My love shall be steadfast and true !’ The maid threw a twig in the water, And sweetly she lisped with a sigh : • Until this twig sinks to the bottom, My love for you, dear, shall not die !’ Alas, for the heat of the summer The water dried up drop by drop— And, lo ! the twig lay at the bottom, The stone re appeared at the top. But where were the fond, faithful lovers Who vows of sweet constancy swore ! Oh, they had ceased loving each other Some two or three fortnights before ! Milton Goldsmith.
‘ ( didn’t see you at Patlow’s funeral, Jimpson.’. * No. Patlow and I have not been on speaking terms for a year or more.’ ‘ Well, what of it? He didn't say a word to anyone at the funeral.’
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https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/periodicals/NZGRAP18940203.2.42.1
Bibliographic details
New Zealand Graphic, Volume XII, Issue V, 3 February 1894, Page 120
Word Count
177A SUMMER ROMANCE. New Zealand Graphic, Volume XII, Issue V, 3 February 1894, Page 120
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This material was digitised in partnership with Auckland Libraries. You can find high resolution images on Kura Heritage Collections Online.
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