Verse Old and New.

New Zealand Graphic, Volume XLIX, Issue 4, 22 January 1913, Page 71

Verse Old and New.

Alphabet of My Sweethearts. f was an actress, my very first love; L_| I thought her an Angel, straight n down from above.

£ was a Bridge Fiend, bright in her way, But couldn't just stand her playing all day.

C was a Chorus Girl, dear little thing—She had pretty eyes—tout she never could sing.

D was a Debutante, painfully shy; >She couldn't talk much, and was too scared to try. E was an English girl, strong and well- • knit, But I don't think she was pretty a bit. F was a Flirt, her coquettish glance Just bowled me right over—she led me a dance! G was a Governess, prim and demure— And yet she adored me, I felt pretty sure! H was an Heiress, with oodles of gold; But then —she was pretty near forty years old! I was Inguene, full of soft curves,; But so idiotic she got on my nerves. J was a Juno, majestic and tall, But somehow she made us feel awfully small. K was a kid, whose round face would beam If 5 asked her to go and have chocolate ice eream. L, Leading Lady! Well, when I knew her I spent all my savings on orchids and fur.

M was a Motor Girl, heedless of stops, tjhe. laughed at the speed laws and smiled at the cops. N was a Nurse. Her sweet, white-cap-ped face In my memory holds a permanent place. O was an Old Maid, dumpy and short; Not quite up-to-date, but a jolly good sort: P was a Poetess, soulful in style, To evade her effusions, I'd run a whole mile. Q was a Queen, don’t ask me the rest, Suffice it to know, she’s the one I liked best. R, Revolutionary Daughter or Dame; Or Colonial Something. (They all look the same). S was a Summer Girl, tanned by the sun. Well —maybe that Summer we didn't have fun! T was a Tourist, with guide-book and all; I miss her—but she will come home in the Fall. U was Unwomanly. My heart she smote When she wanted a latchkey and wanted to vote. V was a Vixen —a beautiful girl, But her temper would certainly make your hair curl. W was a Writer, she had a good mind; But somehow I never cared much for that kind. X, a Xantippe, a regular shrew; Her caustic tirades made the air pretty blue.

Y was a Yankee Girl, clear-eyed and calm; For plain, wholesome cooking I give her the palm. Z was a Zealot in causes galore; But she’d harp on them till all declared her a bore. .—Carolyn Wells, in “Life.” © © © Autnxnn. The sun is up, the breeze aWty, Aris l my heart, for it is day! The autumn’s breath, is wild and sweet; Awake, the golden morn to greet. The river Hows so swift so swift. The trees a hundred colours lift Against the wind that rid<«j so free Across the fields, across the sea; The flying wind from the cold main, That bears all summer in- its train! The world is vivid with the dawn. Arise' my heart, the night is gone! Oh, listen, listen, to my voice; Awake, beloved, and rejoice! These hours are lent from winter's hoard Where so much happiness is stored— So hasten, we are misers, too; Do we not heed the heaven’s blue, The shining earth—without alloy — Th:’ fullness of our sun-kissed joy! —Leolyn Louise Everett. © © © The Country to the Town. Gay as the gems you wear at night—A thousand facets, all one light! Rich the robes you don by day— One glory, though your heart is grey, I see your shining strands of hair; Gold, much gold, is tangled there. But I have seen, I have seen The silver daisies light the green, Have shared the splendours manifold That are but bought with cowslip-gold, The brilliants strewn on forest floors—lx not my realm rich as yours! And the Town said, " Proudly my days go by.” But the Country ’made answer, "Queenlier I!” Many pleasures throng your parks Between the magic dawns and darks;

Wherefore should you heed the 'hurts Of children crying at your skirts? Pomp of a great King’s Parliament. A great Queen’s Court, your pride ha* blent. But I have known, I have known The White Moon on her mountain throne; Have heard the children laugh to sets The Sun-King’s summer revelry The pageant of the purpling moors—• Is not my lot high as yours? And the Town said, "Gaily my days go by,” And the Country made answer, "Happie? —S. Gertrude Ford. © © © Disenchant uient. She had a face divinely fair, A face to make an artist gladj She had a wealth of auburn hair, And oh. the figure that she hadf Her soulful eyes were big and brown, A rounded softness graced her arms; I fancied that in all the town No girl could boast of rarer charms. Her fingers tapered and were white, I paused to gaze a little while, And fancied that the day was bright Because she had so sweet a smile. But all my happy fancies fled, And gloomily 1 went my way, When to a passing friend she said: "1 seen your brother yesterday.” © © © Love. I Hung my life, my hope, ray joy, To Love—before his feet He tortured, teased them, tossed them by— Yet love, ah, love was sweet. My youth is gone, my faith is gone —• I dwell in pale despair—■ Yet. dreaming of the other days, I know- that Love was fair. Yet. dreaming of the.other days, 1 know that Love was Light, And that I hold its glitter here, . . Aitho’ it is the night. —Leolyn Louise Everett.