Verse Old and New

New Zealand Graphic, Volume XLI, Issue 24, 9 December 1908, Page 43

Verse Old and New

With Apologies. In the tramcar, oh, my darling, When the lights are dim and low, 'And the evening hordes of people Wildly come and wildly go —• In the tramcar, oh, my darling—■ Think not bitterly of me, Though I slid into an end-seat. Left you lonely—set you free. For mv hat was crushed and battered — My cravat a sight to see; It was best to leave you thus, dear— Best for you and best for me. Laura Simmons. © © © We Two in Arcady. When we two walked in Arcady (How long ago it seems!) HowHhick the branches overhead. How soft the grass beneath our tread! And thickets where the sun burned red Were full of wings astir, my dear, iV.’hen we two walked in Arcady Through paths young hearts prefer. Since we two walked in Arcady (How long ago it seems!) High hopes have died disconsolate; T he calm-eyed angel men call Fate Stand's with drawn sword before our gate That shuts out all our dreams, my dear, Since we two walked in Arcady Beside the crystal streams. Beyond the woods of Arcady . The little brooks are dry, The brown grass rustles in the heat, Tlie roads are rough beneath our feet, Above our heads no branches meet, And yet. although we sigh, my dear, Beyond the woods of Arcady We see more of the sky! London Dispatch.

Too Previous Alike. Yesterday Alice gazed out of her window And noticed the roadway with sunlight ablaze; The blue of the skies was as bright as her eyes. And she said: “Spring is here with her wonderful days. So bless me I’ll dress me, In costume befitting the advent of spring: • I will don, I’ll put on My peek-a-boo waist, and my furs I will fling.” This she did, for the truth must be told, js morning fair Alice is down with a told. Yesterday Alice arose bright and early And noticed the sunbeams that danced all about; The birds’ merry chatter her heart made to patter; She said: “I’ll look swell when to-day I go out. Hooray! Now here goes For my openwork hose. My oxfords of tan without rubbers I’ll wear. Though mother may scoff, My heavies I’ll doff And go for a stroll while the weather is fair.” This she did—and of course all the truth must be said, To-day her blue eyes are most woe red. To-day Alice speaks with a thick, foggy accent. So cloudy her voice, which was clear as a bell; She gurgles and splutters, each word that she utters Proclaims the sad fate that to Alice befell.

“I’b got a bad gold, I’b a sight to behold." She murmurs, "Mv head is stuffed ul>, I eab’t talk; I’b hot sure the way I got it, I say, But I think that I caught it while oubt for a walk.” So she says, but her waist and her openwork hose Have gone back on the shelf till the Mayblossom blows. —Detroit “Free Press.” © © © Scrupulous. Oh. a model of propriety Was Seraphina Blair; Her virtues and perfections —• They were talked of everywhere. Unto her home one evening Came the parson, tall and square. In the course of conversation, Of most edifying kind, The good and worthy parson made the utterance: “Now 1 find. From my previous dissertation. I am forced to change my mind." Then arose the stately maiden. With a highly virtuous air: “If you find that it is needful—• I must ask you to repair Straightway to an adjoining room. And make the change in there.” © © © Jane of Boston. .Jane is a heterogeneous maid. Incomprehensible, too, I’m afraid. Postulatory, in dress —- Nor. lives the man who could quite tin derstand Her odd insinuatoriness and All her salubriousness. Yet she’s no acatalectical girl, No unaccountably statuesque pearl,. No plus-phenomenal freak ; She is purely compatible bind Of that confabulatorial blood Which must evolve the unique.

All her marked cognoscibility proves She breathes deep exigencies when .-ii® moves. Uneolliquant as can be: Hyperaesthetieal. Yes. but I’ll state Ineryatallizableness makes that trait Supererogatory. bunt her up then as an alogy lass, Bather microphylons, in the mass. Ultra-mundane when she balks: Still she’s as good as there is in Hut la nd I’d like her well could I but understand Half what she says when she talks. Richmond "Times- Dispatch.” © © © The Lost Glamour. Tin world lias lost its glamour, some declare,— Life is a round of iinmelodiou* days; Fled are the nymphs and dryads, fauns -and fays. That ranged the forest ways and found them fair. (lone is the dream that moved mankind to dare Heroic errantries, nor brook delays; Hound the unknown hangs no mysterious haze To tempt the adventurous hand the veil to tear. Th" world has lost its glamour? Nay, not so! The valiant knight may slay the dragon still. For there are wrongs to right with ringing blow:. Discovery but waits the ardent will! The glamour lost? Ask those who gaily go. Hand clasped in hand, adown you grassy hill! C linton Scollard. in New Orleans “Tinies -Democrat